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THOUGHTS   OF  A 

PSYCHIATRIST    ON   THE   WAR 

AND  AFTER 


•THOUGHTS  OF  A 
PSYCHIATRIST  ON  THE 
WAR  AND  AFTER 


BY 


WILLIAM  A.  WHITE,  M.  D. 

Supt.  of  St.  Elizabeth's  Hospital,  Washington,  D.  C;  Professor 

of  Nervous  and  Mental  Diseases,  Georgetown  University; 

Professor  of  Nervous  and  Mental  Diseases, 

George  Washington  University. 


NEW  YORK 

PAUL  B.  HOEBER 

1919 


fi 


ft 


Copyright,  1919, 
By  PAUL  B.  HOEBER 


All  Rights  Reserved 


Printed  in  the  United  States  oj  America 


CONTENTS 


I.    The  Social  Perspective  .  1 

/  II.  The  Psychology  of  Con- 
flict; the  Individual 
versus  the  group   .     .         6 

III.  The  Integration  of  So- 

cial   Groups — Culture      42 

IV.  Psychological  Effects  of 

War 60 

V.     Psychological  Causes  of 

War 75 

VI.     Some  Tendencies  Quick- 
ened by  War       ...       88 

VII.     Individualism  versus  So- 
cialism— Love  and  Hate    104 

VIII.  The  Socially  Handi- 
capped  130 


INTRODUCTION 

PSYCHIATRY  as  a  medical  special- 
ty, devoted  to  the  treatment  of  men- 
tal diseases,  has  for  generations  been  con- 
sidered under  the  limiting  concept  insan- 
ity. Recent  years  have  seen  its  evolution 
from  this  limitation  to  include  minor  de- 
grees of  illness  recognized  as  imbalances 
of  the  personality  make-up  and  included 
in  various  disorders  of  adaptation  class- 
ified as  the  neuroses  and  psycho-neuroses. 
A  more  intimate  study  of  these  conditions 
has  resulted  in  the  recognition  that  all  such 
disorders  were  defects  in  the  capacity  for 
adjustment,  and  these  defects  have  come 
to  be  more  and  more  recognized  as  defects 
[vii] 


INTRODUCTION 

in  adjustment  to  the  social  environment. 
Human  psychology  has  found  itself  sorely 
limited  when  it  confined  its  study  solely 
to  man  as  an  individual,  and  has  come  into 
its  true  place  and  possibilities  only  when 
it  has  learned  to  consider  man  as  a  social 
animal.  Society,  while  it  is  composed  of 
individuals,  reflects  its  degree  of  develop- 
ment in  each  individual  psyche,  so  that 
man  and  society  occupy  relations  of  mu- 
tual interdependence,  each  profoundly  af- 
fecting the  other.  In  his  efforts  to  aid 
the  sick  individual  the  psychiatrist  thus 
comes  to  consider  of  necessity  the  social 
values  that  are  reflected  in  the  personality 
before  him. 

In  these  serious  days  of  social  upheaval 

the  psychiatrist  has  been  confronted  by  an 

exceptional  material  of  mental  disorders 

of  adjustment,  not  only  in  the  soldier 

[viii] 


INTRODUCTION 

population  faced  with  the  possibility  of 
being  called  upon  to  make  the  ultimate  re- 
nunciation, but  in  the  civilian  population 
as  well,  torn  by  all  the  anxieties  of  having 
loved  ones  at  the  front  and  by  the  necessi- 
ties of  the  radical  rearrangement  of  their 
lives  in  innumerable  ways  at  home.  The 
psychiatrist  has,  as  a  result,  been  confront- 
ed with  huge  problems  of  large  numbers  of 
individuals  to  treat  and  the  further  task  of 
attempting  to  fit  all  sorts  of  unusual  types 
of  personality  into  some  sort  of  social  use- 
fulness. Out  of  these  experiences  it  is  nat- 
ural that  the  meaning  of  the  present  con- 
flict and  the  readjustments  necessary  to 
bring  it  to  a  successful  issue  and  to  carry 
over  success  into  the  period  of  readjust- 
ment should  have  been  a  matter  for  serious 
thought.  All  about  us  new  concepts  are  be- 
ing born  as  old  concepts  are  being  given 
[ix] 


INTRODUCTION 

new  meanings  by  the  events  of  the  day,  and 
the  symbols  which  are  used  to  indicate 
them  are  being  reenergized.  Patriotism 
has  come  to  have  a  broader  and  a  deeper 
meaning  which  is  making  for  an  extension 
of  ideals  and  aims  beyond  geographical 
boundaries,  and  thus  is  motivating  new 
forms  of  conduct.  The  psychological  prin- 
ciples underlying  these  changes  are,  as. 
they  appear  to  the  author,  briefly  set  down 
in  these  "thoughts." 

William  A.  White. 


W 


Thoughts  of  a  Psychiatrist  on  the 
War  and  After 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  SOCIAL   PERSPECTIVE 

IN  these  days,  when  the  militant  up- 
heaval of  the  world  seems  to  be  knock- 
ing the  props  from  under  all  of  the  estab- 
lished conditions  which  had  come  to  be 
looked  upon,  thought  about,  felt,  and 
wished  as  stable,  it  would  seem  to  be  worth 
while  to  try — even  though  it  be  in  a  small 
and  perhaps,  in  some  directions,  an  unin- 
formed way — to  trace  in  the  events  that 
are  rapidly  occurring  the  operation  of 
laws  and  principles  which  in  the  end  will 
[1] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

make  for  evolution,  for  progress,  for  de- 
velopment, and  for  better  conditions  of 
living,  in  order  that  we  may  the  more 
intelligently  go  forward  with  the  times 
in  a  feeling  of  sympathetic  cooperation 
with  that  undying  hope  in  those  aspira- 
tional  values  that  we  have  always  felt 
somehow  controlled  the  order  of  things. 
The  immense  complexity  of  the  condi- 
tions involved  makes,  it  seems  to  me,  a 
survey  from  every  point  of  view  of  some 
possible  value  in  the  hope  that  some  com- 
mon ground  may  be  reached  by  approach- 
ing the  problems  from  all  angles.  The 
uniformity  of  natural  laws  has  made  me 
feel  that  perhaps  as  a  psychiatrist,  who  is 
constantly  faced  with  the  problem  of  regu- 
lating individual  lives,  the  point  of  view 
developed  in  this  work  might  be  of  service 
in  outlining  principles  which  would  be  ap- 
[2] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

plicable  to  the  larger  problems  of  society. 
Because  of  the  tremendous  extent  of  the 
present  conflict,  and  only  for  that  reason, 
it  seems  to  me,  are  we  inclined  to  view  with 
alarm  the  ultimate  resolution  of  the  pres- 
ent state  of  affairs.  Such  upheavals  have 
always  been  with  us  in  the  smaller  prob- 
lems of  the  parts  of  the  social  organism. 
Individuals  have  always  had  the  tragedy 
of  frustrated  lives  to  face  with  the  neces- 
sity for  radical  readjustment  or  complete 
failure  as  the  alternatives;  social  groups 
and  even  nations  have  had  the  same  prob- 
lems to  meet,  but  never  before  has  the 
whole  world  been  so  put  to  it.  It  is  the 
scale  on  which  the  present  situation  is 
drawn  that  destroys  our  perspective  rather 
than  the  nature  of  the  problems  that  are 
involved  and  which,  therefore,  because  we 
cannot  escape  a  personal  reckoning  with 
[3] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

the  results,  suffuses  the  whole  situation 
with  that  feeling  of  anxiety  which  grips  in 
the  face  of  overwhelming  forces  that  push 
us  irresistibly  into  the  very  midst  of  the 
great  unknown. 

But  mankind  has  not  changed  overnight, 
and  it  must  be  that  we  can  observe,  if  we 
but  look  with  seeing  eyes,  the  same  in- 
stincts, the  same  tendencies  that  we  have 
all  along  been  familiar  with  as  we  have 
watched  man  struggle  with  his  problems 
elsewhere,  writ  so  large  perhaps  as,  by  that 
very  token,  to  be  out  of  the  field  of  our 
clear  vision,  so  big,  so  in  evidence  that  we 
fail,  for  that  very  reason,  to  see  them.  It 
is  reminiscent  of  that  game  of  our  child- 
hood when  we  hid  an  object  by  putting  it 
in  the  most  conspicuous  place  in  the  room. 

All  this  is  not  to  say  that  we  are  not  on 
the  eve  of  momentous  and  far-reaching 
[4] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

changes,  but  the  beginnings  of  these  very 
changes  have  for  years  been  taking  root  all 
about  us  and  reach  in  their  origins  to  those 
instinctive  springs  of  human  conduct  that 
we  are  already  familiar  with  in  other  rela- 
tions. It  is  rather,  I  apprehend,  here  as 
elsewhere,  the  desire  not  to  see  rather  than 
the  fact  that  there  is  nothing  to  see  that 
makes  us  blind. 


[8] 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  CONFLICT:  THE  INDI- 
VIDUAL VERSUS  THE  GROUP 

THERE  are  everywhere  small  groups 
of  pacifists  who  decry  war,  who  do 
not  believe  in  fighting,  but  who  do  believe 
in  the  possibility  of  a  peaceful  settlement 
of  all  difficulties.  But  so  far  as  we  know, 
fighting  has  been  one  of  man's  universal 
ways  of  reacting  ever  since  he  has  been 
upon  the  earth,  and  this  is  true  not  only 
of  man,  but  of  all  animate  creation,  so  long 
as  our  concept  of  fighting  is  not  war  alone. 
Conflict  is  universal  in  some  form  or  other, 
and  not  only  is  it  not  possible  to  avoid  it, 
but  it  lies  at  the  very  basis  of  the  manifes- 
[6] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

tations  of  life  itself.    What  do  I  mean  by- 
such  a  statement? 

In  so  far  as  life  consists  in  the  adapta- 
tion of  the  living  being  to  its  environment 
it  involves  a  continuous  overcoming  of  re- 
sistances, from  the  painstaking  carrying 
of  each  grain  of  dirt  by  the  ant  as  it  tun- 
nels out  its  nest  to  the  molding  of  clay  and 
iron  into  the  brick  and  steel  framework  of 
a  great  building;  and  the  evolution  of  life 
to  higher  forms  implies  an  ever-increasing 
capacity  for  better  and  better,  that  is,  finer 
adjustments.  Life  is  always  at  war  with 
the  elements,  and  is  destroyed  by  too  much 
heat  on  the  one  hand  or  too  little  on  the 
other,  by  too  much  water  or  too  little,  in 
short  by  the  very  elements  themselves 
upon  which  life  depends  if  the  adjustment 
falls  outside  certain  limits.  Life  in  its 
myriad  forms  has  to  adjust  itself  to  all  the 

m 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

varying  conditions  of  environment,  and 
somehow  struggles  through  all  the  stur- 
dier for  the  hardships  suffered.  The  "sur- 
vival of  the  fit"  means  that  only  those  who 
are  able  to  weather  the  storm  are  able  to 
live.  Nature  acts  like  a  careful  breeder, 
throwing  out  all  stock  that  is  inferior, 
that  is  incapable  of  surviving  the  hard- 
ships inflicted  by  a  given  set  of  selective 
agents — heat,  cold,  dryness,  moisture,  high 
altitude,  special  enemies,  etc.  And  when 
it  comes  to  man  we  know  that  a  young 
man's  future  is  by  no  means  assured  by  re- 
moving the  obstacles  from  his  path,  rather 
the  contrary.  Character  is  developed  by 
overcoming  obstacles,  not  by  going  around 
them. 

But  it  is  not  this  struggle  with  the  en- 
vironment that  I  wish  to  emphasize,  im- 
portant as  it  may  be.    It  is  the  struggle 
[8] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

within  which  is  of  supreme  significance — 
the  struggle  of  man  with  himself,  the  old, 
old  struggle  which  has  been  emphasized 
over  and  over  again  by  religion  and  by  the 
poet  and  the  artist.  It  is  the  struggle  of 
man,  ever  on  the  upward  path  from  sav- 
agery to  civilization  and  then  to  an  ever 
better  civilization.  This  is  the  struggle 
which,  it  seems  to  me,  must  be  understood 
if  we  are  to  understand  war.1 

1  In  order  that  the  nature  of  this  inner  conflict 
may  be  understood  it  will  be  helpful  to  refer  to 
certain  historical  facts  in  the  growth  of  the  science 
of  psychology. 

Psychology,  until  about  a  generation  ago,  was 
largely  tinged  with  metaphysical  speculation.  It 
was  based  upon  the  results  of  introspective  exam- 
ination rather  than  upon  the  results  of  objective 
observation  which  had  come  to  be  the  method  of 
the  other  natural  sciences.  It  was  among  the  last 
of  the  sciences  to  adopt  the  method  of  experi- 
mental verification  and  to  take  its  place  in  the  lab- 
oratory along  with  the  rest  of  them.  When  it  did, 
however,  finally  evolve  to  the  laboratory  stage  it 

[9] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

The  human  animal,  like  all  animals,  has 
certain    fundamental    instincts    which   it 

occupied  itself  with  experimental  refinements. 
Vision  was  examined  to  define  its  range,  not  only 
in  terms  of  distance,  but  of  lateral  extent;  the 
visibility  of  the  cardinal  colors  was  examined  in 
the  same  way  and  then  the  range  of  color  vision 
itself,  that  is,  the  number  of  color  tones  that  were 
distinguishable;  the  degrees  of  brightness  were 
arranged  in  a  scale  in  a  similar  way;  and  the  ra- 
pidity, measured  in  hundredths  of  a  second,  with 
which  the  observer  could  respond  to  the  several 
visual  stimuli  was  recorded.  The  other  sense 
organs  were  examined  in  like  manner  and  laws 
were  evolved  based  upon  the  nature  of  series  of 
least  observable  differences  in  stimuli.  Psychol- 
ogy, in  this  state  of  its  development,  was  in  reality 
only  a  refined  physiology  of  the  sense  organs, 
defining  their  capacities  for  reaction  in  more  defi- 
nite terms  of  time  and  space  and  of  the  physical 
characteristics  of  the  stimulus. 

For  this  psychology,  which  was  a  refined  physi- 
ology, the  sensation  was  the  irreducible  unit  out 
of  which  all  that  was  mental  was  built  up.  If  I, 
for  example,  see  a  book  lying  on  the  table  before 
me,  this  experience  can  be  analyzed  into  its  com- 
ponent sensory  units.  The  color  of  the  book, 
lighter  where  the  light  strikes  it,  darker  in  shadow, 

[10] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

spends  its  life  in  endeavoring  to  satisfy. 
Just  what  these  are,  how  they  are  to  be 

is  analyzable  into  its  component  sensory  qualities; 
the  perception  of  its  distance  is  dependent  upon 
sensations  (unconscious)  of  the  stress  and  strain 
of  the  eye  muscles  as  they  move  the  two  eyes  into 
a  position  which  brings  the  book  into  clear  vision, 
into  focus;  the  perception  of  the  object  as  a  book 
is  again  dependent,  not  upon  immediate  sensations, 
but  upon  a  combination,  an  association  of  these 
with  remembered  groups  of  similar  sensations, 
which  groups,  occurring  over  and  over  again  in  the 
course  of  our  lives,  have,  with  the  aid  of  memory 
associations,  gradually  built  up  the  concept  book: 
the  perception  of  the  roughness  or  smoothness,  as 
the  case  may  be,  of  the  cover,  is  also  but  sensa- 
tional material,  but  here  again,  largely  inferred 
from  past  touch  experiences  rather  than  dependent 
upon  present  sensations.  The  sensation  is  the  unit 
out  of  which  consciousness  is  built  up  by  a  pro- 
gressive series  of  combinations  into  percepts,  con- 
cepts, abstract  ideas. 

This  is  a  workable  method  of  studying  certain 
mental  processes  so  long  as  we  are  dealing  with 
subjects  that  can  be  interrogated,  but  for  studying 
the  mind  in  its  manifestations  in  animals  other 
than  man  it  is  impracticable.  Here  a  method  of 
objective  observation  becomes  necessary,  and  ac- 

[11] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

classified,  is  a  matter  of  considerable  dif- 
ference of  opinion,  but  they  include  the 

cordingly  the  animal  psychologists  had  to  build  up 
a  science  from  which  introspection,  which  had  so 
long  remained  the  keynote  to  all  things  psycho- 
logical, was  completely  eliminated.  The  necessity 
for  the  elimination  of  introspection  resulted  in  re- 
finements of  method  which  shortly  came  to  be  ap- 
plied to  the  study  of  human  psychology.  The 
refined  physiology  of  the  sense  organs  gave  way 
to  a  study  of  the  observable  conduct  of  the  indi- 
vidual by  the  new  school  of  "behaviorists." 

The  behaviorists  no  longer  asked  such  questions 
as,  What  is  the  least  increase  in  the  strength  of  a 
stimulus  that  is  perceivable?  but,  What  is  the  indi- 
vidual doing?  This  was  a  much  more  pertinent 
question  for  psychology  to  answer,  for  it  is  a  ques- 
tion which  must  be  answered  in  terms  of  the  whole 
individual  and  therefore  in  terms  that  are  truly 
psychological,  while  the  earlier  form  of  question, 
because  it  could  only  be  answered  in  terms  of  the 
function  of  a  particular  part  of  the  individual  (an 
organ,  such  as  the  eye),  is  for  that  very  reason, 
answerable  in  terms  which  are  clearly  physiolog- 
ical. For  example,  a  man  leaves  his  house,  walks 
down  town,  stops  at  a  real  estate  broker's,  signs 
certain  papers,  gives  a  check  and  receives  a  deed 
in  return.    The  answer  to  What  is  the  man  doing? 

[12] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 


hunger  instinct,  the  sex  instinct,  the  in- 
stinct to  fight  enemies,  the  instinct  to  seek 

would  be  that  He  is  buying  a  house.  If  all  of  the 
observable  data  are  present  the  question  can  be 
answered,  some  behaviorists  say,  without  reference 
at  all  to  the  data  of  introspection.  However,  there 
can  be  no  question  but  that  psychology  had  made 
a  great  advance  when  it  came  to  deal  with  conduct, 
in  fact  it,  for  the  first  time,  was  primarily  inter- 
ested in  material  that  was  truly  psychological. 

It  remained  for  the  psychoanalyst  to  take  the 
next  step  which,  while  it  continued  to  deal  with 
conduct,  did  not  ignore  the  introspective  data.  He 
saw  the  importance  of  recognizing  that  the  mind 
was  an  expression  of  the  individual  as  a  whole  and 
that  in  the  field  of  the  psyche  were  fought  out 
those  battles  of  the  instincts  each  of  which  tried 
to  capture  the  individual  and  bend  all  of  his  ener- 
gies to  its  purpose.  Conduct  thus  becomes  the 
final  result  in  action  of  the  various  instinctive  ten-  ^ 
dencies  as  they  struggle  for  ascendency  and  suc- 
ceed, fail,  or  more  frequently  reach  some  com- 
promise. 

In  this  struggle  of  the  instinctive  tendencies, 
this  constant  "battle  of  motives,"  each  tendency 
fights,  so  to  speak,  to  bring  to  pass  the  realization 
of  its  own  particular  trend,  it  seeks  certain  ends, 
it  tries  to  compass  them,  it  desires  to  bring  them 

[13] 


"/ 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

safety,  the  parental  instinct  and  the  in- 
stinct of  gregariousness.  The  parental  in- 
stinct might,  perhaps,  be  classified  as  a  de- 

about,  in  short  it  wishes  for  certain  results.  The 
"battle  of  motives"  for  the  control  of  the  indi- 
vidual thus  becomes  a  battle  of  wishes  and  that 
motive  or  that  wish  succeeds  which  is  the  stronger. 
The  individual  does  what,  in  the  last  analysis,  he 
wanted  to  do.  In  terms  of  conduct  the  man  bought 
a  house,  but  if  we  also  take  into  account  the  data 
of  introspection  we  find  in  addition  that  he  wanted 
to  buy  a  house  in  the  country  which  he  could  look 
forward  to  as  a  home  when  he  retired  from  busi- 
ness. The  wish  has  replaced  the  sensation  as  the 
ultimate  psychological  unit. 

The  replacement  of  the  sensation  by  the  wish 
as  the  unit  of  mental  life  has  not  only  been  of 
momentous  importance  from  a  purely  scientific 
standpoint,  but  it  has  had  the  effect  of  humanizing 
the  science  of  mind.  Psychology  can  no  longer  be 
content  to  deal  with  abstract  scientific  concepts, 
but  it  must  deal  with  actual,  living  human  material, 
with  men  as  they  are,  with  their  aspirations  and 
disappointments,  their  hopes,  their  fears,  their 
loves  and  hates.  Psychology  has  become  human- 
ized. (See  Holt,  Edward  B.:  "The  Freudian 
Wish  and  Its  Place  in  Ethics."  New  York,  1915.) 
[14] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

velopment  of  the  sex  instinct  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
on  the  other,  in  which  the  result  of  satisfy- 
ing the  sex  hunger — the  child — is  desired 
both  as  a  means  of  security  in  old  age  and 
also  as  a  means  of  projecting  one's  self  into 
the  future,  the  instinct  for  immortality. 
All  of  the  instincts  may  be  classified  into 
two  fundamental  ones,  namely,  the  self- 
preservation  instinct  (type  hunger),  and 
the  race-preservation  instinct  (type  sexu- 
ality ) .  Or  from  another  point  of  view,  the 
attitude  of  the  individual  towards  the  ob- 
ject of  instinct,  into  acquisitive  tendencies, 
the  effort  to  acquire  the  object  (type  love) 
and  avertive  tendencies,  the  effort  to  de- 
stroy or  avoid  the  object  (type  hate,  sub- 
types anger  and  fear). 

These  instincts  in  their  primitive  mani- 
festations condition  the  ways  of  reacting 
[15] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

of  the  lower  animals  which  make  up  be- 
havior. They  cause  all  of  those  more  or 
less  complicated  series  of  activities  that 
produce  the  phenomena  of  mating  and  all 
those  subsidiary  activities  including  the 
care  of  the  young,  and  those  other  activi- 
ties that  have  to  do  with  attacking  and 
overcoming  other  animals  either  for  food 
or  as  enemies,  and  the  means  of  escape, 
flight,  etc.,  from  enemies  of  overwhelming 
strength. 

The  progress  of  mankind  from  savagery 
to  civilization  does  not  consist  in  the  de- 
struction of  these  instincts,  but  in  the  sup- 
pression— repression — of  the  primitive 
ways  of  satisfying  them  and  the  utilization 
of  the  energies  so  repressed  to  find  satis- 
faction in  ways  that  are  progressively 
more  and  more  removed  from  the  primi- 
tive types.  This  is  the  process  of  sublima- 
[16] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

tion.    What  are  the  forces  that  bring  about 
this  change? 

The  force  which  deflects  the  primitive 
instincts  of  love  and  hate  from  immediate 
satisfaction  by  at  once  acquiring  the  loved 
object  or  destroying  the  hated  enemy,  is 
that  group  of  necessities  which  arise  as  a 
consequence  of  man's  living  together  in 
groups,  the  so-called  instinct  of  gregari- 
ousness,  or  the  herd  instinct.  So  long  as 
one  animal  could  stand  alone  it  not  only 
might  satisfy  its  instincts  to  mate  and  to 
kill,  but  it  was  to  its  distinct  advantage  to 
do  so,  for  only  by  so  doing  could  it  insure 
its  own  existence  and  the  continued  exis- 
tence of  the  species.  When,  however,  as 
with  man,  it  became  evident  that  for  pur- 
poses of  protection  from  superior  enemies 
it  was  desirable  to  herd  in  bands,  there 
arose  the  factor  of  the  welfare  of  the  group 
[17] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

as  a  distinct  end  in  itself,  often,  if  not  al- 
ways, of  superior  importance  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  individual  members.  To  kill 
a  member  of  the  group,  for  example,  tend- 
ed to  weaken  the  strength  of  that  group 
and,  by  that  same  token,  to  make  it  less  ef- 
fective as  a  protective  device  for  the  in- 
dividual members,  the  one  who  did  the  kill- 
ing as  well  as  the  others.  Therefore  there 
arose  a  situation  in  which  the  interests  of 
the  individual  and  the  interests  of  the  herd 
were  not  the  same,  they  were  opposed  and 
in  consequence  the  group  being  more  pow- 
erful than  any  individual  member  of  it,  the 
interests  of  the  individual  had  to  give  way 
to  those  of  the  group.  Killing,  therefore, 
had  to  be  done  only  with  the  consent  of 
the  herd  when  it  felt  that  its  interests  as  a 
group  demanded  it.  Individual  feuds 
tended  to  give  place  to  the  more  orderly 
[18] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

procedure  of  trial  and  condemnation.  The 
instinct  to  kill  was  therefore  sidetracked 
into  a  more  devious  path  for  its  satisfac- 
tion, a  path  beset  with  all  sorts  of  ob- 
stacles from  the  standpoint  of  the  indi- 
vidual's cravings,  but  one  which  served 
the  interests  of  the  herd  far  better.  The 
instinct,  from  being  satisfied  by  actual  kill- 
ing, came  to  seek  satisfaction  in  the  sub- 
limated forms  of  condemnation,  trial,  etc., 
and  if  perhaps  the  criminal  were  acquitted 
it  failed  by  so  much  in  attaining  its  goal. 
It  is  the  same  with  the  acquiring  of  food. 
The  interests  of  the  herd — society — de- 
mand that  food  shall  be  acquired  as  a  re- 
sult of  work ;  work  is  paid  for  with  money, 
and  the  money  in  turn  may  be  exchanged 
for  food.  The  interesting  point  here  is 
that  the  work  shall  be  of  a  character  to 
[19] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

benefit  the  herd,  it  must  be  socially  accept- 
able, a  socially  useful  form  of  work. 

Here,  then,  in  this  opposition  of  the  in- 
terests of  the  individual  in  his  efforts  to 
satisfy  his  fundamental  instincts  and  the 
interests  of  the  herd,  is  a  basic  problem 
upon  the  successful  solution  of  which  de- 
pends the  success  of  man's  efforts  to  reach 
ever  higher  goals  in  his  struggle  upwards. 
This  is  the  fundamental  conflict  which 
conditions  man's  activities  as  a  member  of 
society.  What  is  the  method  of  its  solu- 
tion? 

In  the  process  of  evolution  organisms 
have  developed  of  ever-increasing  com- 
plexity in  correspondence  with  an  equally 
increasing  nicety  of  adaptation  to  the  com- 
plexities of  their  environment.  This  has 
meant,  among  other  things,  that  no  single 
function  or  organ  of  the  entire  organism 
[20] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

has  evolved  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other 
functions  or  organs;  each  has  developed, 
but  in  subservience  to  the  needs  of  the 
whole.  Organisms  have  not  developed 
that  were  all  digestive  apparatus  or  all 
brain,  or  all  liver  or  kidney  or  other  organ. 
Each  organ,  while  developing,  has  had  its 
functional  growth  fitted  into  the  needs  of 
the  whole.  The  digestive  apparatus  needs 
a  brain  to  direct  the  finding  and  appropri- 
ating of  proper  food,  the  brain  needs  a  di- 
gestive apparatus  to  furnish  it  nourish- 
ment, and  both  need  adequate  excretory- 
organs  to  prevent  the  waste  products 
which  accumulate  from  clogging  their  deli- 
cately ad j  usted  mechanisms.  This  process 
of  developing  the  parts  in  the  service  of 
the  whole  is  the  process  of  integration. 

The    process    of    integration    applies 
equally  to  the  instincts  which,  after  all, 
[21] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

may  be  reduced  to  efforts  towards  the  sat- 
isfaction of  organic  needs ;  the  hunger  in- 
stinct is  primarily  the  effort  of  the  stom- 
ach to  satisfy  its  cravings;  the  instinct  to 
fight  is  the  effort  of  the  so-called  kinetic 
system,  of  which  the  muscles  are  obviously 
the  most  important  part,  to  gain  satisfac- 
tion in  safety  by  the  destruction  of  a  dan- 
gerous enemy,  and  so  forth.  Now  the  well- 
rounded,  integrated  individual  is  one  in 
whom  all  of  the  instincts  operate,  but  in 
the  service  of  the  needs  of  the  whole  indi- 
vidual. Thus  we  eat  when  we  need  food, 
we  fight  when  fighting  is  necessary  to  elim- 
inate the  danger  from  an  enemy  threaten- 
ing destruction,  and  so  with  the  rest. 

When,  for  example,  any  one  instinct  is 
enabled,  for  any  reason,  to  gain  the  mas- 
tery of  the  whole  organism  so  that  it  domi- 
nates its  activities,  that  individual  is  sick. 
[22] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

The  dominance  of  the  hunger  instinct 
makes  the  glutton,  of  the  sexual  instinct 
the  Don  Juan,  of  the  acquisitive  instinct 
the  miser  or  the  thief,  and  he  is  sick  because 
the  instinct  domination  from  which  he  suf- 
fers has  resulted  in  activities  which  are  not 
useful  to  the  herd.  He  becomes  asocial  or 
antisocial,  according  as  to  whether  his  ac- 
tivities are  negatively  or  positively  inju- 
rious to  the  herd. 

It  is  the  same  with  the  social  organism. 
It  is  made  up  of  many  different  groups 
each  engaged  in  its  own  peculiar  activities, 
doctors,  lawyers,  mechanics,  soldiers,  engi- 
neers, clergymen,  laborers,  farmers,  ar- 
tists, etc.  ISTow  if  any  one  of  these  groups 
should  come  to  dominate  the  activities  of 
the  whole  social  organism,  it  too  would  be 
sick.  Society  needs  all  of  their  activities, 
but  it  needs  them,  as  the  body  needs  its  or- 
[23] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

gans,  subordinated  to  the  needs  of  the 
whole.  Farmers  are  needed  to  produce  the 
food,  railroad  operatives  are  needed  to 
transport  it,  doctors  to  care  for  the  sick 
and  prevent  disease,  lawyers  to  assist  the 
administration  of  justice,  clergymen  to 
minister  to  the  spiritual  needs.  It  is  only 
when  all  work  together  for  the  common 
good  of  the  whole  that  the  society  is  ade- 
quately integrated  and  so  healthy.  If,  for 
example,  the  shoemakers  should  dominate, 
then  every  one  would  be  at  the  job  of  mak- 
ing shoes  without  thought  of  the  necessity 
for  getting  food  or  the  administration  of 
those  necessary  laws  upon  which  all  co- 
operation must  depend.  Such  a  society 
would  be  manifestly  sick,  but,  too,  it  would 
of  necessity  soon  cease  to  exist. 

An   exceedingly   important   aspect   of 
this  process  of  integration,  and  one  which 
[24] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

it  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind,  is  that  in- 
tegration is  in  itself  a  process  of  develop- 
ment, and  failure  of  integration  is,  there- 
fore, an  indication  of  lack  of  development 
or  of  relative  immaturity.  This  is,  of 
course,  only  another  way  of  saying  that 
the  domination  of  any  particular  instinct 
is  detrimental  to  the  social  usefulness  of 
the  individual  and  therefore  tends  to  unfit 
that  individual  for  the  fullest  life  as  a 
member  of  the  social  group. 

The  failure  of  integration,  the  domina- 
tion of  particular  instinctive  trends,  inas- 
much as  it  renders  the  individual  asocial 
or  antisocial,  thus  brings  to  bear  the  opera- 
tion of  the  herd  critique  directed  against 
such  individuals  and  such  activities  as  are 
so  conditioned.  The  operation  of  this  herd 
critique  seems  therefore  to  force  the  indi- 
vidual along  lines  of  activity  which  shall 
[25] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

be  socially  useful.  It  represents  the  force 
of  the  herd  making  for  its  own  ends  and 
compelling  the  individual  to  abandon — re- 
press— the  immediate  gratification  of  his 
own  instincts  and  the  utilization  of  the  en- 
ergies thus  turned  aside  in  sublimated 
forms  of  activity  which  shall  be  useful  to 
the  herd.  To  put  it  another  way:  The 
force  which,  in  its  negative  aspect  makes 
for  repression — the  herd  critique — pro- 
duces in  its  positive  aspect  the  desire  for 
the  reward  of  social  esteem. 

This  double  negative  and  positive  aspect 
of  the  herd  critique  is  characteristic  of  all 
progressive  tendencies.  They  are  first  re- 
pressed and  only  later  become  the  objects 
of  desire  in  a  sublimated  form.  We  repress 
those  instinctive  cravings  which  lie  near  to 
the  surface,  which  we  are  only  a  little  dis- 
tance from  really  wanting  to  yield  to. 
[26] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

After  having  developed  a  firm  sublima- 
tion, however,  we  can  allow  our  instincts 
fuller  play.  Love  may  thus  literally  re- 
place hate.  For  example,  the  savage  kills 
with  relatively  little  repugnance,  but  as  so- 
ciety develops  the  instinct  of  overcoming 
our  enemy  in  the  primitive  and  final  way 
has  to  be  repressed  for  the  common  good. 
Later,  however,  the  work  of  killing  be- 
comes a  highly  exalted  profession  in  the 
soldier  when  it  is  elevated  to  an  end  high- 
er than  the  satisfaction  of  an  individual 
hatred,  namely  the  end  of  the  saving  of  the 
group — nation — from  destruction  by  an- 
other group.  Similarly,  but  more  subtly, 
the  instinct  to  build  as  expressed  by  the 
child  in  playing  in  mud  and  dirt  has  later 
to  be  repressed,  because  it  becomes  obnox- 
ious to  the  grown-ups,  but  in  the  course  of 
development  the  child  who  expressed  this 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

early  interest  in  building  may  find  satis- 
faction in  progressively  more  acceptable 
ways  and  means  and  become  an  engineer 
or  architect.  His  instinct  has  remained 
the  same  but  it  is  applied  in  more  socially 
acceptable  and  useful  ways,  it  has  become 
sublimated.  It  is,  therefore,  not  the  in- 
stinct that  changes,  but  its  application. 
Development  might  thus  be  expressed  by 
a  description  of  the  objects  of  interest  as 
they  successively  replace  one  another  and 
represent  progressively  more  socially  val- 
uable activities. 

The  same  method  of  reasoning  can  be 
applied  to  the  social  group,  and  we  recog- 
nize development  in  this  larger  aspect  as 
based  upon  the  nature  of  the  objects  which 
social  groups  seek  to  attain.  The  essential- 
ly imperialistic  group  that  is  bent  upon 
conquering  weaker  groups  and  using  them 
[28] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

as  sources  of  revenue,  slaves  either  in  the 
primitive  physical  sense  of  that  term  or 
the  more  developed  economic  sense,  is  ad- 
mittedly lower  in  the  scale  of  social  de- 
velopment than  the  society  that  exercises 
a  protecting  function  over  weaker  groups 
and  helps  them  develop  along  the  lines  of 
their  natural  tendencies. 

A  most  important  aspect  for  an  under- 
standing of  mechanisms  of  repression  and 
sublimation  is  the  way  in  which  we  project 
ourselves  into  these  various  situations. 
This,  for  reasons  that  will  appear,  is  not, 
however,  obvious.  For  example  the  per- 
petrator of  a  grave  social  offense  is  hated. 
The  obvious  reason  for  our  hate  is  that  the 
offense  brings  misery  and  suffering  to 
others.  Looked  into  a  little  more  care- 
fully, the  hate  can  be  seen  to  have  self -pro- 
tective aspects.  The  criminal's  act  is  cal- 
[89] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

culated  to  destroy  the  existing  order  of 
things,  and  unless  it  is  put  down  vigorous- 
ly, the  criminal  apprehended  and  pun- 
ished, that  is,  confined  against  further  sim- 
ilar activities,  we  ourselves  may  suffer 
from  his  activities.  And  punishment  is 
rationalized  largely  by  the  belief  that  it 
will  be  deterrent  to  others  who  may  be 
similarly  tempted,  despite  the  fact  that  ac- 
tual experience  by  no  means  shows  that 
prevention  of  crime  is  proportionate  to 
severity  of  punishment.  Further  than  this 
the  temptations  to  which  the  criminal 
yielded  are  vaguely — unconsciously — ap- 
prehended as  of  a  character  to  tempt  us, 
and  so  in  hating  the  criminal  we  are  really 
bringing  to  bear  the  so-called  antipathic 
emotions,  our  avertive  tendencies,  upon 
those  tendencies  which  we  unconsciously 
recognize  within  ourselves  and  so  forcing, 
[30] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

so  to  speak,  ourselves  along  the  upward 
path  of  development  away  from  socially 
destructive  forms  of  conduct  which  would 
tend  to  disintegrate  that  very  social  or- 
ganization upon  which  we  so  much  de- 
pend for  opportunities  to  realize  the  best 
that  is  in  us.  This  projection  of  ourselves 
into  such  a  situation  is  therefore  but  a 
symbolization  of  our  own  inner  conflict 
between  our  ideals  and  our  instinctive  ten- 
dencies as  they  are  seen  in  operation  in  the 
conflict  between,  in  this  instance,  the  crim- 
inal and  society.2 

To  elaborate  this  thesis  a  little  further 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  relatively  un- 
developed, infantile,  character  of  unsocial 
activities :    The  child  of  two  or  three  years 

2  I  have  elaborated  this  point  of  view  in  the 
chapter  on  the  criminal  in  my  book  "The  Princi- 
ples of  Mental  Hygiene,"  published  by  The  Mac- 
millan  Company,  New  York,  1917. 

[31] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

that  appropriates  something  that  does  not 
belong  to  it  is  not  treated  either  as  a  crim- 
inal or  with  hate.  It  is  corrected,  often  in 
a  more  or  less  facetious  way,  to  the  end  of 
bringing  it  to  understand  the  differences 
between  mine  and  thine.  Our  attitude, 
while  one  of  repression,  is  also  one  of  edu- 
cation and  emotionally  is  kindly  and  indul- 
gent. Toward  the  criminal,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  one  of  repression,  punishment, 
and  hate.  Why  the  difference?  It  is  be- 
cause in  the  child's  activities  we  recognize 
something  that  belongs  to  the  child  period, 
while  in  the  criminal  we  see  a  form  of  ac- 
tivity which  should  have  been  left  behind 
in  the  process  of  growth  and  development, 
should  have  become  a  part  of  the  individ- 
ual's past.  We  see  the  anachronism  of  an 
infantile  type  of  conduct  in  an  adult  set- 
[32] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

ting  and  as  such  stamp  it  as  wrong,  as  un- 
natural, because  it  does  not  conform  to  the 
normal,  that  is,  the  usual.  Similarly  with 
other  forms  of  abnormal  conduct.  We  are 
coming  to  see  in  all  of  them  ways  of  ex- 
pressing the  instincts  which  are  relatively 
undeveloped,  infantile.  Among  the  so- 
called  "insane"  the  examples  are  without 
number.  In  the  mentally  ill  patient  who 
has  to  be  cared  for  as  a  child  we  see  an  in- 
dividual who  has  returned  to  certain  infan- 
tile ways  of  reacting  by  a  process  known 
as  regression.  We  may  be  disgusted  with 
such  a  reaction,  but  we  are  indulgent  and 
helpful  on  the  theory  that  the  patient  is  ill. 
Such  conduct  does  not  call  for  hate,  be- 
cause it  is  only  calculated  to  injure  the 
sick  individual;  it  is  only  passively,  so  to 
speak,  antisocial  and  not  actively  and  ag- 
[33] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

gressively  antisocial  as  in  the  case  of  the 
so-called  criminal.3 

To  put  it  somewhat  differently,  the  herd 
critique  is  directed  against  antisocial 
types  of  conduct,  and  antisocial  types  of 
conduct  are  types  which  are  relatively  in- 
fantile types  and  anachronisms  because  oc- 
curring in  an  adult  setting.  The  object  of 
the  critique  is  to  press  the  activities  of  the 
individual  into  channels  that  lead  to  con- 
duct useful  to  the  herd  and  so  is,  after  all, 
a  form  of  projected  critique  against  those 
tendencies  in  ourselves  which  would  lead 
us  into  forms  of  conduct  essentially  selfish. 
This  sort  of  repressive  mechanism  is  nec- 
essary because  we  all  have  the  same  instinc- 
tive cravings  and  only  differ  as  we  learn  to 

3  For  a  further  discussion  of  mental  illness  as 
asocial  and  criminal  conduct  as  antisocial  see  my 
"Principles  of  Mental  Hygiene." 

[34] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

get  satisfaction  from  those  objects  and 
forms  of  activity  which  are  socially  useful, 
that  is,  when  we  get  away  from  the  neces- 
sity for  the  immediate  satisfaction  of  those 
cravings  in  primitive  and  concrete  ways; 
until,  in  other  words,  we  have  learned  to 
sublimate. 

One  more  important  principle  can  be 
illustrated  by  a  further  analogy  between 
society  and  the  living  organism.  What  the 
organism  does  to  neutralize  its  cravings 
and  to  relate  itself  to  its  environment  is  a 
function  either  of  some  organ  or  of  the 
organism  as  a  whole.  When  the  function 
becomes  efficient  and  is  maintained  for  a 
considerable  period  of  time  there  results  a 
structure  which  is  laid  down  to  carry  on 
the  function.  The  function  of  the  circula- 
tion of  nutrient  fluids  in  the  lower  mono- 
cellular organisms  is  carried  on  in  a  seem- 
[35] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

ingly  haphazard  sort  of  way,  the  fluid 
flowing  here  and  there  throughout  the  cell 
in  no  previously  laid-out  channels.  In  the 
higher  organisms  there  has  been  developed 
a  circulatory  system  which  fulfills  this 
function  in  a  very  efficient  way.  This  lay- 
ing down  of  structure  to  fulfill  function  I 
have  called  the  structuralization  of  func- 
tion, and  it  is  one  of  the  prominent  char- 
acteristics in  the  evolution  of  organisms. 
Thus  the  circulatory  system  may  be  said 
to  be  the  solution,  in  structure,  of  the  prob- 
lem of  getting  the  nutrient  fluids  to  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  organism.  From  the 
same  point  of  view  the  lungs  are  the  organ- 
ism's solution  of  the  problem  of  utilizing 
oxygen,  the  gastro-intestinal  tract  the  so- 
lution of  the  problem  of  utilizing  proteids, 
starches,  and  fats,  the  liver  the  solution  of 
the  problem  of  using  sugar,  etc. 
[36] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

Similarly  in  society.  Railroads  repre- 
sent in  part  the  circulatory  system,  which 
is  society's  solution  of  the  problem  of 
transportation,  which  is  so  crudely  carried 
out  in  primitive  communities;  the  groups 
of  tailors  and  cloth  makers  represent  so- 
ciety's solution  of  the  problem  of  supply- 
ing clothes,  etc.4 

These  various  solutions  serve  their  sev- 
eral purposes  so  long  as  no  great  demands 
are  made  upon  them  different  from  those 
which  called  them  into  being.  For  exam- 
ple, the  kidneys  work  very  efficiently  until 
called  upon  to  excrete  substances  for  which 
their  efficiency  was  never  developed,  as,  for 

4  For  a  further  discussion  of  the  principles  un- 
derlying integration  and  the  place  of  the  psyche  in 
development  see  my  article  "The  Significance  for 
Psychotherapy  of  Child's  Developmental  Gradi- 
ents and  the  Dynamic  Differentiation  of  the  Head 
Region,"  Psychoanalyt.  Rev.,  V,  January,  1918. 

[37] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

example,  alcohol  or  corrosive  sublimate- 
Analogously  certain  social  groups  break 
in  an  attempt  to  adjust  to  conditions 
which  they  have  never  been  developed  to 
meet.  The  hand  weavers  suffered  great 
hardship  as  a  result  of  the  introduction  of 
machinery  to  do  the  work  which  they  had 
learned  to  do  by  hand.  The  readjustment 
threw  large  numbers  out  of  work  and  into 
great  want  and  privation.  A  new  type  of 
worker  had  to  be  developed  to  meet  the 
new  conditions.  In  the  development  and 
evolution  of  organisms  the  history  of  or- 
gans is  quite  similar ;  for  example,  the  sub- 
stitution of  lungs  for  gills  when  animals 
left  their  watery  habitat  and  became  ter- 
restrial. 

The  significant  facts  are  that  new  struc- 
tures arise  to  meet  new  conditions  and  that 
the  old  structures  have  to  be  discarded,  de- 
[38] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

stroyed.  The  greater  the  demand  for  read- 
justment the  more  extensive  the  destruc- 
tion. It  is  as  if  development  went  on  in 
a  certain  direction  as  far  as  it  could  go 
and  then,  because  the  limit  had  been 
reached  in  that  particular  direction,  what 
had  already  been  developed  must  be  de- 
stroyed and  a  new  start  made  towards  a 
different  objective.  In  this  process  not  in- 
frequently the  race  or  the  species  comes  to 
an  end  because  it  is  incapable  of  sustaining 
itself  during  the  period  of  readjustment. 
Development  has  as  one  of  its  aspects  de- 
struction— disintegration  of  all  that  stands 
in  the  way.  In  the  moral  sphere  we  call  it 
renunciation.  The  alcoholic  must  re- 
nounce alcohol  if  he  wishes  to  become  so- 
cially rehabilitated. 

I  have  devoted  so  much  space  to  the  set- 
ting forth  of  certain  principles  of  human 
[39] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

behavior  and  drawing  analogies  between 
the  living  organism  and  society  because  it 
seems  to  be  essential  to  have  this  larger 
viewpoint  in  order  to  approach  the  prob- 
lem of  war  in  a  judicial,  unprejudiced 
frame  of  mind.  The  state  of  mind  pro- 
duced by  war  is  so  laden  with  the  emotion 
of  hate  that  our  vision  is  likely  to  be  re- 
stricted within  the  limits  of  that  emotion 
and  so  fail  us  in  acquiring  that  broader 
outlook  which  I  believe  so  essential  in  deal- 
ing with  all  things  human.  Then  again  we 
are  still  inclined  to  be  immature  in  our 
judgments  of  others,  to  see  them  only  in 
terms  of  individuals  like  ourselves,  and  so 
fail  utterly  in  evaluating  characters  which 
have  grown  up  and  developed  in  response 
to  conditions  different  from  those  with 
which  we  are  familiar.  For  this  reason 
alone  whole  races,  with  us — for  example, 
[40] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

the  Orientals — remain  everlasting  mys- 
teries. We  must  learn  to  see  individuals, 
races,  species  as  but  reactions  of  adapta- 
tion, more  or  less  successfully  integrated, 
to  meet  the  problems  which  have  con- 
fronted in  them  the  unfolding  of  the  great 
creative  energy  in  the  face  of  the  obstacles 
which  have  blocked  their  pathways. 


[41] 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  INTEGRATION  OF  SOCIAL  GROUPS 

CULTURE 

WE  are  now  in  a  position  to  consider 
some  of  the  special  psychological 
problems  presented  by  war.  We  shall 
find,  among  other  things,  that  a  very  im- 
portant distinction  must  be  made  as  to 
whether  we  view  the  phenomena  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  individual  or  from  that 
of  the  group  to  which  he  belongs. 

I  have  stressed  the  analogies  between 
the  living  organism  and  society.  The  evo- 
lution of  the  living  organism  has  been 
along  the  lines  of  the  development  of  or- 
gans which  are  structures  laid  down  to 
[42] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

answer  demands  made  upon  the  capacity 
for  functional  adaptation.  In  the  same 
way  society,  by  the  process  of  the  speciali- 
zation of  activities  by  separate  groups,  has 
responded  to  the  demands  made  upon  it  in 
a  quite  similar  way.  And  further,  just  as 
in  the  evolution  of  life  organisms  have  be- 
come more  complex  in  the  sense  that  their 
several  parts  were  more  and  more  special- 
ized for  particular  functions — that  is,  they 
developed  more  organs — so  societies  have 
become  more  and  more  complex  and  have 
come  to  include  a  greater  and  greater  num- 
ber of  specialized  groups.  In  both  the  liv- 
ing organism  and  in  society  the  progres- 
sively increasing  number  of  organs  are 
able  to  function  effectively  because  they 
have  been  integrated,  that  is,  their  several 
functions  have  been  so  related  that,  while 
they  each  serve  their  own  special  ends, 
[43] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

their  activities  are  subordinated  to  the 
good  of  the  whole  group,  thus  bringing 
about  a  hierarchy  of  organs  which  repre- 
sent structuralized  functions. 

Among  interrelated  social  groups  each 
group  has  an  end  which  is  purely  individ- 
ual and  another  end  which  is  directed  to 
the  good  of  the  larger  group  of  which  it  is 
a  component  part,  and  so  on  if  this  larger 
group  is  a  member  of  a  still  larger  one. 
From  the  standpoint  of  each  group,  there- 
fore, there  are  two  fundamental  interests, 
namely  the  interests  of  the  individual 
member  of  the  group  (be  it  the  individual 
as  such  or  a  social  group  within  a  nation, 
or  a  nation  within  a  league  of  nations )  and 
the  interests  of  the  group  as  a  whole.  As 
already  explained,  these  two  lines  of  in- 
terest frequently  intersect.  It  obviously 
depends,  therefore,  to  a  great  extent  from 
[441 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

which  point  of  view,  the  individual  or  the 
group,  a  given  action  is  observed  whether 
ib  will  be  considered  a  desirable  form  of 
activity  or  otherwise.  This  fact  is  of  prime 
importance  in  considering  social  activities 
as  they  are  expressed  either  in  the  conduct 
of  the  individual  or  the  acts  of  a  nation. 
For  example  killing  is  a  crime  when  com- 
mitted by  a  person  in  his  individual  capac- 
ity, unless,  of  course,  in  self-defense,  but 
when  committed  by  a  soldier  it  is  highly 
commended  for  the  reason  that  in  his  ca- 
pacity as  soldier  he  is  acting  for  the  group, 
serving  its  interests.  This  distinction  be- 
tween individual  and  group  has,  too,  to  be 
further  modified  on  the  basis  of  the  point 
in  development  which  each  has  attained  in 
the  general  scheme  of  evolution.  The  con- 
flict between  the  interests  of  the  individual 
and  those  of  the  group,  the  eternal  desire 
[45] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

of  the  individual  to  find  the  fulfillment  of 
his  inner  needs,  the  recognition  that  they 
can  only  be  adequately  fulfilled  through 
and  not  in  opposition  to  the  group,  the 
needs  of  the  group  and  the  necessity  for 
forcing  the  individual  to  bring  them  to 
pass,  are  the  conflicting,  crossing,  and  sup- 
plementary lines  of  force  that  make  for 
the  final  results.  Just  as  multicellularity 
was  a  necessary  precondition  to  speciali- 
zation of  cells  so  that  each  could  best  real- 
ize its  own  possibilities  and  develop  func- 
tion to  the  highest  point  of  refinement,  so 
society  is  a  necessary  precondition  to  the 
highest  development  of  the  individual  and 
the  fullest  utilization  of  his  powers. 

I  have  also  stressed  the  process  of  inte- 
gration in  the  description  of  the  develop- 
ment of  organs  and  groups  and  their  rela- 
tions to  one  another  with  the  corresponds 
[46] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

ing  subordination  of  their  respective  indi- 
vidual ends  to  the  good  of  the  larger  whole. 
It  therefore  follows  in  general  that  the 
older  organs  and  groups  have  solved  their 
respective  problems  up  to  a  certain  point 
better  than  the  younger  ones,  and  are  thus 
more  capable  of  functioning  efficiently,  of 
course  on  the  assumption  that  they  have 
not  come  to  the  end  of  their  capacity  for 
readjustment  and  are  therefore  fixed.  The 
heart  has  solved  the  problem  of  propelling 
the  blood  and  done  it  so  effectively  that  its 
structure  is  capable  of  very  little  modifica- 
tion and  also  susceptible  of  relatively  little 
variation  in  functional  capacity  or  modi- 
fication at  the  behest  of  other  organs,  for 
example  the  lungs.  So  with  old  social 
structures  such  as  the  medieval  trade 
guilds,  which  were  relatively  stable.  Sta- 
bility is  a  desirable  end,  inasmuch  as  it 
[47] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

makes  for  efficiency  within  the  limits  of  its 
capacity  for  adaptation,  but  undesirable  in 
the  face  of  necessities  for  radical  readjust- 
ments just  because  of  those  limits. 

Conduct,  therefore,  has  to  be  judged 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  relative  ma- 
turity or  immaturity  of  the  reacting  indi- 
vidual, organ,  or  group.  For  the  savage 
there  is  one  standard  of  conduct,  a  primi- 
tive one;  for  the  civilized  individual  an- 
other and  much  higher  standard  is  the 
measure.  So  for  certain  nations  that  are  as 
yet  in  a  relatively  immature  stage  of  civili- 
zation the  standard  is  much  different  from 
that  of  more  developed,  higher  evolved 
nations.  And  again  nations  may  have 
evolved  to  a  point  which  demands  higher 
types  of  individual  and  social  conduct,  but 
it  does  not  follow  that  when  such  nations 
attempt  to  unite  their  efforts  into  a  larger 
[48] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

group,  a  league  of  nations,  the  standard 
will  remain  as  high.  Quite  the  contrary. 
The  higher  integration  is  in  a  youthful,  in- 
fantile, primitive,  undeveloped,  immature 
state  and  so,  even  though  the  constituent 
nations  are  highly  evolved  their  group  ac- 
tions may  take  on  the  characteristics  which 
we  have  learned  to  associate  with  a  rela- 
tively immature  state  of  development.  Ly- 
ing and  deceit  of  all  kinds  are  pretty  well 
tabooed  as  types  of  individual  reaction, 
but  they  are  still  in  evidence  in  the  diplo- 
matic inter-relations  between  nations.  In- 
ternational relations  are  higher  forms  of 
reality  situations  which  have  not  yet  de- 
veloped mature  and  efficient  types  of  reac- 
tion which  have  been  laid  down  in  an  en- 
during structure  of  custom  and  law.  The 
several  political  units  look  upon  each  other 
as  natural  enemies  and  seek  to  overcome 
[49] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

each  other  by  relatively  immature,  primi- 
tive, unsublimated  methods.  Nations  in 
their  international  relations  have  then  to 
repeat  the  story  of  evolution  much  as  does 
each  child  from  the  moment  of  impregna- 
tion to  adulthood.  The  individual  mem- 
bers of  the  race,  however,  are  already  high- 
ly evolved  as  individuals,  and  in  this  new 
process  of  integration  are  called  upon  to 
make  adjustments  relatively  of  an  im- 
mature kind.  This  necessity  for  going 
backward  on  the  path  of  adjustment  has 
been  variously  called  reversion,  regression, 
and  dedifferentiation.  It  involves  a  cast- 
ing aside  of  already  acquired  adjustments 
and  reverting  to  an  historically  earlier 
type  which  had  been  found  useful  in  the 
past  experiences  of  the  individual  or  the 
race.  In  evaluating  human  conduct  dur- 
ing a  period  of  war,  therefore,  a  distinc- 
[50] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

tion  has  to  be  made  between  conduct  which 
is  representative  of  the  level  already  at- 
tained by  the  individual  and  the  level  of 
the  race  in  its  newest  efforts. 

The  apparently  new  phenomena  which 
seem  to  have  been  added  during  a  state  of 
war  are  these  phenomena  of  regression, 
and  they  are  apparently  new  because  we 
see  them  become  manifest  in  persons  who, 
as  individuals,  had  always  maintained  a 
high  standard  of  personal  conduct,  but  in 
the  new  conditions  imposed  by  war  become 
violent  partisans  from  whom  reason  seems 
temporarily  to  have  vanished  and  who, 
contrary  to  everything  in  their  past  his- 
tory, become  apologists  for  every  kind  of 
regressive  tendency. 

Such  manifestations  surprise  because 
we  had  come  to  think  that  they  were  im- 
possible, in  other  words  we  have  thought 
[51] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

that  the  ground  gained  by  culture  was 
gained  for  all  time  and  so  we  are  always 
unprepared  to  see  such  gross  lapses.  Our 
belief  that  all  that  has  been  gained  by  cul- 
ture will  be  held  is  after  all  nothing  but  a 
wish,  and  it  is  because  it  is  a  wish,  because 
the  belief  has  back  of  it  the  motive  power 
of  a  wish,  that  we  are  so  unprepared  to 
find  that  it  is  not  true,  and  this  despite  the 
fact  that  we  are  surrounded  by  evidences 
of  its  untruth  all  the  time.  That  enormous 
group  of  the  dependent,  defective,  and  de- 
linquent classes  testify  in  each  individual 
member  to  the  actual  fact  of  regression  to 
earlier  cultural  levels  of  reaction. 

This  matter  of  regression  is  one  of  the 
most  important  psychological  mechanisms 
to  understand  if  we  are  to  have  any  real 
comprehension  of  man's  cultural  advances 
and  set-backs.  I  have  already  indicated 
[52] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

how  each  organic  need  tends  to  reach  satis- 
faction, but  how  a  conflict  arises  the  net 
result  of  which  is  to  press  all  such  needs 
into  the  service  of  the  larger  whole,  be  that 
individual  or  group.  This  outer  compul- 
sion to  serve  the  larger  end  can  only  be 
successful  at  the  expense  of  pressing  back, 
repressing,  certain  components  of  the 
energy  representing  those  organic  needs 
which  are  not  addressed  to  this  larger  pur- 
pose, but,  on  the  contrary,  which  are  ad- 
dressed to  finding  immediate,  concrete, 
and  selfish  satisfaction.  Such  energies  can 
thereafter  only  be  effectively  expended, 
in  a  way  satisfactory  to  both  the  individual 
and  the  group  ends,  in  a  sublimated  form, 
which  means  that  immediate,  concrete, 
selfish  satisfaction  must  be  replaced  by  a 
more  remote,  less  concrete,  and  relatively 
unselfish  type  of  reaction.  The  criminal, 
[53] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

for  example,  wants  something — money — 
and  proceeds  to  take  it.  This  is  a  primi- 
tive, immediate,  concrete,  selfish  way  of 
gratifying  his  wish.  The  more  highly  de- 
veloped man  goes  by  a  much  more  devious 
path  to  the  goal.  He  works  and  earns  the 
money.  Perhaps  he  studies  for  years  to 
fit  himself  for  the  work.  He  spends  weeks, 
months,  perhaps  years  in  slowly  accumu- 
lating as  much  money  as  the  thief  takes  in 
an  hour.  And  the  work  that  he  does  is 
socially  useful,  it  is  constructive.  For  ex- 
ample, he  may  be  a  machinist,  a  builder,  a 
tradesman,  or  any  one  of  a  thousand  things 
which  serve  society.  He  gains  the  grati- 
fication of  his  wishes  in  ways  that  are  rela- 
tively highly  evolved,  that  yield  less  imme- 
diate satisfaction  and  substitute  a  goal  to 
be  attained  at  some  future  time,  that  are 
less  concrete — because  for  the  actual 
[54] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

money,  for  example,  a  way  of  living  is 
largely  substituted — and  which  are  less 
selfish  because  the  activities  which  are  cal- 
culated to  earn  the  money  are  useful  to  the 
social  group  of  which  he  is  a  member. 

From  these  illustrations  it  must  be  evi- 
dent that  repression  is  an  essential  feature 
in  cultural  progress.  What  is  not  quite  so 
evident,  however,  is  that  the  repressed  ma- 
terial is  essentially  of  the  same  character 
in  all  of  us.  We  have  all  traveled  the 
same  path  of  development,  all  started  with 
the  same  instinctive  needs,  all  been  sub- 
jected to  the  same  repressive  forces.  To 
be  sure  all  persons  are  not  alike;  they  ex- 
hibit differences  of  character  just  as  they 
exhibit  differences  of  other  sorts,  for  ex- 
ample, differences  of  feature.  But  it  is 
with  character  as  it  is  with  the  features, 
the  similarities  are  much  more  in  evidence 
[55] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

than  the  differences.  It  is  true  that  no  two 
people  look  exactly  alike,  but  it  is  also 
true  that  all  have  two  eyes,  a  nose,  and  a 
mouth.  The  variations  must  be  rung  on 
this  substantial  background  of  similari- 
ties. That  it  is  so  with  character  we  can 
easily  believe  when  we  realize  that  the 
human  species  is  five  hundred  thousands 
of  years  old.  With  such  a  past  shared  in 
common  the  differences  must  be  relatively 
very  small.  The  repressed  material  goes 
to  form  what  is  known  as  the  unconscious, 
that  is,  that  region  of  the  mind  which 
makes  up  its  past  history  but  of  which  we 
are  not  in  ourselves  aware.1 

Inasmuch  as  the  repressed  material — 
the  unconscious — is  the  same,  to  all  intents 

1  For  a  discussion  of  the  basic  elements  of  char- 
acter see  my  "Mechanisms  of  Character  Forma- 
tion." Published  by  The  Macmillan  Company, 
New  York,  1916. 

[56] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

and  purposes,  in  all  of  us,  it  might  be  well 
to  inquire  briefly  of  what  it  consists,  for 
we  would  expect,  if  this  is  true,  to  find  that 
it  was  such  material  that  invariably  came 
to  the  surface  in  states  of  regression. 

The  essential  nature  of  the  unconscious 
can  be  summed  up  in  the  single  word  self- 
ish, or  self-seeking.  It  knows  only  its  own 
individual  interests  and  would  go  directly 
to  its  goal  irrespective  of  anything  else. 
Other  individuals'  inconvenience,  suffer- 
ing, or  even  death  are  of  no  account  to  it. 
Immediate  satisfaction  of  desire  by  the 
means  most  readily  available  is  its  only 
formula,  the  seeking  of  pleasure  and  the 
avoiding  of  pain  its  only  object.  The  un- 
conscious, therefore,  contains  the  records 
of  our  past  as  we  have  painfully  climbed 
the  road  to  civilization.  It  contains  those 
tendencies  to  gluttony,  to  lust,  to  lie  and 
[57] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

deceive,  to  hate,  cruelty,  and  murder  which 
characterize  the  savage  and  the  child,2  and 
upon  the  sublimation  of  which  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization  depends. 

But  this  inventory  of  the  unconscious 
discloses  precisely  those  characteristics 
which  we  find  coming  to  the  front  in  war- 
time and  which,  when  exhibited  by  persons 
we  have  learned  to  respect,  so  much  sur- 
prise us.  The  explanation  is  evident. 
That  great  region  of  our  past  which  we 
all  hold  in  common  has  been  uncovered 
and  instinctive  tendencies  which  had  been 
repressed  now  again  come  to  the  surface 
and  call  for  satisfaction.     It  is  the  phe- 

2  This  may  seem  a  rather  extreme  statement  with 
regard  to  the  child,  but  unbiased  observation  dis- 
closes the  child  as  essentially  selfish,  although  the 
extreme  manifestations  of  this  selfishness  are  com- 
monly held  in  check.  In  the  child  criminal,  how- 
ever, they  come  to  the  fore. 

[58] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

nomenon  of  regression.  The  psychic  en- 
ergy, instead  of  flowing  to  outside  inter- 
ests, turns  back  and  refloods  the  channels 
along  which  it  flowed  in  the  process  of 
development. 


[59] 


CHAPTER  IV 

PSYCHOLOGICAL  EFFECTS  OF  WAR 

THE  phenomena  of  regression,  the 
failure  of  sublimation,  take  on  simi- 
lar characters  in  the  individual  and  thus 
also  in  the  group  which  reflects  the  con- 
joined reactions  of  its  individual  members. 
I  have  already  indicated  in  a  general  way 
the  nature  of  some  of  these  reactions,  the 
primitive  ones  of  hate,  cruelty,  and  deceit. 
In  the  individuals  these  tendencies  mani- 
fest themselves  in  killing,  looting,  burning, 
rape,  and  all  manner  of  bloodshed  and  vio- 
lence, such  as  bring  about  the  general  feel- 
ing of  the  collapse  of  civilization.  Some  of 
these  reactions  show  with  especial  clear- 
[60] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

ness  the  regressive  tendencies.  It  is  the 
sex  instinct,  for  example,  which,  in  the 
course  of  cultural  development,  is  most 
subjected  to  repression  and  suffers  infinite 
distortions  in  its  efforts  to  find  expression 
and  free  itself  from  the  fetters  of  innu- 
merable taboos.  Quite  characteristically, 
therefore,  do  we  find  that  acts  of  sexual 
violence  and  lawlessness  characterize  the 
conduct  of  the  unrestrained  soldiery.  The 
sex  instinct  in  its  manifold  manifestations 
which  under  repression  produces  in  times 
of  peace,  for  the  most  part,  neuroses  which 
are  crippling  to  the  individual  only,  in 
times  of  war  leads  to  overt  acts  of  concrete 
indulgence  often  at  the  expense  of  the  lives 
of  others.  Loosed  from  the  usual  bonds  of 
convention  and  social  restraint  it  tends  to 
outcrop  in  veritable  orgies  of  lust. 

It  is  quite  similar  with  other  socially  re- 
[61] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

pressed  tendencies.  Hate  manifests  itself 
in  wanton  destruction,  an  infantile  type  of 
reaction,  that  reminds  us  of  the  angered 
child  that  breaks  up  its  toys  and  tears  up 
its  books.  Some  of  these  hate  reactions 
show  peculiarly  their  infantile  sources, 
such  as  the  defilement  of  temporary  quar- 
ters in  captured  towns,  even  of  the  relig- 
ious utensils  and  paraphernalia  of  church- 
es. This  latter  is  a  direct  manifestation 
of  the  infantile  reaction  of  antagonism  to 
authority,  secular  or  spiritual,  which  marks 
the  course  of  the  emancipation  of  the  child 
from  parental  domination.  It  has  at  once 
the  meaning  of  the  overthrow  of  authority 
and  thus  the  enhancement  and  dominance 
of  the  personal  ego  and  that  other  primi- 
tive characteristic  of  overcoming  an  enemy 
by  destroying  a  symbol  of  that  enemy. 
This  is  in  accord  with  the  primitive  and 
[62] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

childlike  faith  in  magic  based  upon  a  be- 
lief in  the  omnipotence  of  thought.  If  one 
only  thinks  a  thing  hard  enough  it  must 
be  true.  Savages  use  such  methods  to  de- 
stroy a  foe  when  they  resort  to  charms  and 
incantations.  We  do  the  same  in  our  re- 
sort to  prayer  and  especially  to  lurid  post- 
ers representing  the  annihilation  of  the 
foe.  Similar  principles  underlie  the  vio- 
lent assertion  of  what  we  will  do  and  insist 
upon,  of  perfervid  statements  setting  forth 
our  invincibility  and  the  sanctity  of  our 
purposes  as  opposed  to  the  ultimate  neces- 
sity of  surrender  by  the  enemy  and  his  es- 
sentially selfish  and  criminal  purposes.  All 
such  statements  seem  to  gain  strength  and 
acceptance,  not  in  proportion  to  their  in- 
nate reasonableness,  but  in  proportion  to 
the  emphasis  with  which  they  are  enunciat- 
ed. Reason  seems  to  have  been  tempora- 
[63] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

rily  dethroned  and  pure  feeling,  emotion, 
takes  its  place  as  the  motive  force  of  con- 
duct. The  wish  becomes  truly  the  father 
to  the  thought.  The  long  battle  for  the 
control  of  the  emotions,  of  instinct,  by  the 
intelligence,  seems  to  have  been  lost  and 
man  slips  back  to  be  again  dominated  by 
his  feelings. 

Trotter  analyzes  very  acutely  the  char- 
acteristics of  opinions  as  they  are  ex- 
pressed in  response  to  feelings  or  as  the 
result  of  experience.1  When  an  opinion  is 
entertained  with  a  feeling  that  it  would  be 
absurd,  obviously  unnecessary,  unprofit- 
able, undesirable,  bad  form,  or  wicked  to 
inquire  into  it,  then  we  know  that  the  opin- 
ion in  question  is  held  instinctively  and  not 

1  Trotter,  W.,  "Instincts  of  the  Herd  in  Peace 
and  War."  Published  by  T.  Fisher  Unwin,  Ltd., 
London,  191 6. 

[64] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

as  the  result  of  individual  experience.  It 
is  held  because  of  its  obviousness,  which  is 
another  way  of  saying  because  it  is  dictat- 
ed by  the  herd,  that  is,  by  the  group  of 
which  the  individual  holding  it  forms  a 
part.  Opinions  which  are  held  as  the  re- 
sult of  experience  do  not  offer  such  resist- 
ance to  being  inquired  into.  There  is  no 
such  resistance  to  inquiry  into  the  phe- 
nomena of  physics  and  chemistry,  the 
problems  of  mathematics,  the  proving  of  a 
geometrical  theorem;  but  about  matters 
of  religion,  morals,  and  politics  it  is  large- 
ly in  evidence.  When,  therefore,  in  war- 
time the  individual  regresses  in  his  activi- 
ties to  lower  ways  of  instinct  expression 
he  naturally  also  renounces  the  higher  in- 
tellectual processes  and  drops  to  lower  lev- 
els of  emotional  reaction  to  account  for 
and  to  justify  his  conduct. 
[65] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

Another  type  of  emotional  reaction 
which  equally  has  its  roots  in  the  uncon- 
scious is  quite  as  common.  I  refer  to  the 
reaction  of  fear.  From  the  category  of 
qualities  of  the  unconscious  which  I  have 
cited  it  might  appear  that  unconscious  ten- 
dencies were  all  aggressive.  The  principle 
of  the  ambivalence  of  emotions,  that  for 
each  feeling  there  is  an  exact  opposite,2 
should  have  prepared  us  for  the  contrary. 
The  feeling  of  fear  has  its  origin  in  the 
necessity  for  change,  for  going  forward 
into  the  region  of  the  unknown,  into  situa- 
tions which  we  no  longer  control,  for  part- 
ing with  that  feeling  of  omnipotence  which 
belongs  to  the  period  of  infancy.  The  in- 
fant, like  the  savage,  has  an  exaggerated 
feeling  of  his  own  power  and  the  omnipo- 
tence of  his  own  thoughts.     The  savage 

2  See  "Mechanisms  of  Character  Formation." 
[66] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

tries  to  destroy  the  enemy  by  thoughts, 
that  is,  wishes,  expressed  in  various  magic 
ceremonies.  The  child  wishes  something, 
food;  he  cries,  and  presto!  the  food  ap- 
pears. This  fancied  control  over  things 
is  not  voluntarily  given  up,  but  only  as  a 
stern  necessity,  the  result  of  the  uncom- 
promising invasion  into  this  fairy-land  of 
fancy  of  the  cold,  hard  facts  of  reality. 
Not  only  is  this  world  of  phantasy  not 
abandoned  by  the  savage  or  the  child,  but 
it  is  never  given  up,  and  deep  in  the  uncon- 
scious of  man  there  always  lurks  that  de- 
sire for  omnipotence  which  we  once  knew 
when  we  still  believed  our  thoughts 
brought  things  to  pass,  as  they  do  nowa- 
days in  dreams,  and  for  that  feeling  of 
safety  we  once  knew  as  children  when  we 
were  always  able  to  flee  from  danger  to 
the  fostering  care  of  a  mother  in  whose 
[67] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

ability  to  protect  us  we  reposed  absolute 
confidence.8 

The  desire  for  things  as  they  always 
have  been ;  this  attachment  to  the  past,  the 
known,  the  familiar;  the  wish  to  continue 
in  situations  to  which  we  have  become 
fairly  well  adjusted  and  learned  to  control 
is  the  basis  of  reactionary  and  conservative 
policies  of  conduct,  and  it  is  when  such  rel- 
atively stable  and  familiar  situations  are 
destroyed  and  we  are  projected  into  situa- 
tions with  which  we  are  no  longer  familiar 
and  which  we  cannot  control,  in  short  into 
the  unknown,  that  we  react  with  fear. 
Fear,  therefore,  evidences  our  attachment 
to  the  past  quite  as  truly  as  does  hate. 

Hate  and  fear  are  thus  the  two  great 
type  emotions  that  rise  from  the  uncon- 
scious and  take  control  of  our  conduct  at 

8  See  "Mechanisms  of  Character  Formation." 
[68] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

times  of  regression.  The  characteristics 
of  conduct  motivated  by  hate  I  have  al- 
ready indicated.  The  conduct  that  comes 
from  fear  is  primarily,  of  course,  that 
group  of  actions  to  which  we  give  the 
name  of  cowardice,  and  which  is  so  severe- 
ly censured  by  the  herd  in  time  of  war  be- 
cause it  is  not  useful  to  the  group.  There 
is  a  considerable  group  of  persons,  both 
within  the  military  establishment  and  in 
civil  life,  who  break  down  under  the 
stresses  of  war  conditions.  They  include 
many  types  of  personality  make-up,  and 
the  break  manifests  itself  in  all  sorts  of 
ways,  from  mild  neuroses  to  frankly  psy- 
chotic episodes.  The  consideration  of  this 
group  constitutes  a  special  chapter  in  psy- 
chopathology. 

There  is  another  aspect,  however,  of  hu- 
man conduct  which  war  calls  forth,  which 
[691 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

is  not  to  be  described  in  such  grim  terms. 
War  calls  forth  the  loftiest  type  of  aspira- 
tions, the  most  exalted  acts  of  daring  hero- 
ism and  of  self-sacrifice  and  unselfish  devo- 
tion of  which  man  is  capable.  This  again 
might  have  been  foreseen  from  the  prin- 
ciple of  ambivalency.  What  is  the  deeper 
meaning  of  this  type  of  conduct  ? 

As  already  indicated,  the  aims  of  the 
individual  and  the  aims  of  the  herd  are  of 
necessity  frequently  in  opposition.  The 
aims  of  the  individual,  as  such,  are  essen- 
tially selfish,  while  the  aims  of  the  herd 
call  for  more  or  less  reunuciation  of  sel- 
fishness and  devotion  to  the  good  of  the 
group,  the  larger  whole,  for  conduct  which 
is  in  essence  unselfish.  Thus  it  comes 
about  that  war  picks  up  the  problem  of 
the  herd.  During  periods  of  peace  and 
prosperity  individual  aims  come  to  be  pro- 
[70] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

nounced  largely  to  the  exclusion  of  social 
ones.  They  are  in  fact  often  emphasized 
to  the  point  of  evading  social  responsibili- 
ties of  all  sorts  and  looking  upon  the  de- 
mands that  grow  out  of  such  responsibili- 
ties as  intrusions  and  invasions  of  personal 
rights  and  privileges.  Such  a  state  of  af- 
fairs to  the  extent  that  it  emphasizes  self- 
ishness and  leads  to  a  state  of  mind  that 
courts  the  continuation  of  a  stable  state  of 
society  with  no  changes,  or  at  best  only  a 
minimum  of  changes,  is  decidedly  regres- 
sive. Life  cannot  go  on  and  develop  bet- 
ter conditions  if  it  does  not  move  forward 
into  ever  new  regions  that  present  new 
problems  of  adjustment.  All  these  ten- 
dencies war  peremptorily  sweeps  aside. 
The  energies  which  were  bound  up  in  self- 
indulgence  become  available  for  national 
ends.  Things  are  accomplished  upon  a 
[71] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

prodigious  scale  and  all  manner  of  changes 
are  brought  to  pass  promptly  and  effec- 
tively, which  would  have  been  well-nigh 
impossible  under  the  stagnant  conditions 
of  peace.  Men  are  whipped  by  the  new 
necessity  into  activity  where  energies  had 
been  lying  dormant,  and  the  whole  nation 
takes  on  an  aspect  of  activity  quite  differ- 
ent from  its  former  one  of  quiescence  and 
contentment.  All  of  the  multitudinous 
new  activities  have,  too,  this  premium  of 
social  esteem,  and  so  many  a  one  whose 
life  had  been  valueless  and  who  had  been 
wasting  himself  in  useless  dilettantism,  is 
able  to  effect  a  social  rehabilitation  for 
himself,  to  reacquire  a  self-respect  which 
had  been  lost  because  he  had  not  the 
strength  to  overcome  the  numbing  effect  of 
too  much  ease.  War  has  not  only  its  de- 
structive but  its  constructive  aspect.  Jones 
[T«] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

very  well  puts  it  when  he  says : 4  "War 
furnishes  perhaps  the  most  potent  stimu- 
lus to  human  activity  in  all  its  aspects, 
good  and  bad,  that  has  yet  been  discovered. 
It  is  a  miniature  of  life  in  general  at  its 
sharpest  pitch  of  intensity.  It  reveals  all 
the  latent  potentialities  of  man,  and  car- 
ries humanity  to  the  uttermost  confines  of 
the  attainable,  to  the  loftiest  heights  as 
well  as  to  the  lowest  depths.  It  brings 
man  a  little  closer  to  the  realities  of  exist- 
ence, destroying  shams  and  remolding 
values.  It  forces  him  to  discover  what  are 
the  things  that  really  matter  in  the  end, 
what  are  the  things  for  which  he  is  willing 
to  risk  life  itself.  It  can  make  life  as  a 
whole  greater,  richer,  fuller,  stronger  and 
sometimes  nobler.    It  braces  a  nation,  as 

4  Jones,  Ernest,  "War  and  Individual  Psychol- 
ogy," Sociological  Review,  July,  1915. 

[73] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

an  individual,  to  put  forth  its  utmost  ef- 
forts, to  the  strange  experience  of  bring- 
ing into  action  the  whole  energy  of  which 
it  is  capable. 

"The  results  of  this  tremendous  effort 
are  what  might  have  been  expected.  On 
the  one  side  are  feats  of  dauntless  courage, 
of  fearless  heroism,  of  noble  devotion  and 
self-sacrifice,  of  incredible  endurance,  of 
instantaneous  and  penetrating  appre- 
hension, and  of  astounding  intellectual 
achievement ;  feats  which  teach  a  man  that 
he  is  greater  than  he  knew.  The  other 
side  need  not  be  described  in  these  days  of 
horror.  To  appraise  at  their  just  value 
these  two  sides  of  war,  to  sound  the  depths 
as  well  as  explain  the  heights,  what  is  this 
other  than  to  know  the  human  mind?" 


[74] 


CHAPTER  V 

PSYCHOLOGICAL  CAUSES  OF  WAR 

FROM  the  consideration  thus  far  giv- 
en to  the  psychological  aspects  of  the 
phenomenon  of  war,  what  can  be  said  of 
its  causes,  not  its  political  and  economic 
causes,  nor  yet  the  causes  that  are  put 
forth  by  the  nations  engaged  in  the  con- 
flict, but  its  psychological  causes? 

Already  I  have  indicated  what  some  of 
the  causes  might  be.  The  fact  that  war  to 
no  small  extent  removes  cultural  repres- 
sions and  allows  the  instincts  to  come  to 
expression  in  full  force  is  undoubtedly  a 
considerable  factor.  In  his  unconscious 
man  really  takes  pleasure  in  throwing 
[75] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

aside  restraints  and  permitting  himself  the 
luxury  of  the  untrammeled  expression  of 
his  primitive  animal  tendencies.  The  social 
conventions,  the  customs,  forms,  and  insti- 
tutions which  he  has  built  up  in  the  path 
of  his  cultural  progress  represent  so  much 
energy  in  the  service  of  repression.  Re- 
pression represents  continuous  effort, 
while  a  state  of  war  permits  a  relaxation 
of  this  effort  and  therefore  relief. 

We  are  familiar,  in  other  fields,  with  the 
phenomena  of  the  unconscious,  instinctive 
tendencies  breaking  through  the  bounds 
imposed  upon  them  by  repression.  The 
phenomena  of  crime  and  of  so-called  "in- 
sanity" represent  such  examples,  while 
drunkenness  is  one  instance  familiar  to  all. 
In  vino  Veritas  expresses  the  state  of  the 
drunken  man  when  his  real,  that  is,  his 
primitive  self,  frees  itself  from  restraint 
[76] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

and  runs  riot.  The  psychology  of  the 
crowd  shows  this  mechanism  at  work  par- 
ticularly in  such  sinister  instances  as  lynch- 
ings,  while  every  crowd  of  college  stu- 
dents marching,  yelling  and  howling  down 
the  main  street  of  the  town  after  a  suc- 
cessful cane  rush  exhibits  the  joy  of  un- 
bottling  the  emotions  in  ways  that  no  in- 
dividual would  for  a  moment  think  of 
availing  himself  of. 

In  addition  to  these  active  demonstra- 
tions of  the  unconscious  there  are  those  of 
a  more  passive  sort.  Not  a  few  men  are 
only  too  glad  to  step  aside  from  the  burden 
of  responsibilities  which  they  are  forced  to 
carry  and  seek  refuge  in  a  situation  in 
which  they  no  longer  have  to  take  the  in- 
itiative, but  must  only  do  as  they  are  di- 
rected by  a  superior  authority.  The  gov- 
ernment, in  some  of  its  agencies,  takes  over 
[77] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

certain  of  their  obligations,  such  as  the  sup- 
port of  wife  and  children,  and  they  clear 
out,  free  from  the  whole  sordid  problem 
of  poverty,  into  a  situation  filled  with  dra- 
matic interest.  Then,  too,  if  anything  goes 
wrong  at  home  they  are  not  to  blame,  they 
have  done  their  best,  and  what  they  have 
done  meets  with  public  approval.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  an  inhabitant  of  the  slums 
should  be  glad  to  exchange  poverty  and 
dirt,  a  sick  wife  and  half  starved  children 
for  glorious  freedom,  especially  when  he 
is  urged  by  every  sort  of  appeal  to  patriot- 
ism and  duty  to  do  so? 

But  all  these  are  individual  factors  that 
enter  into  the  causes  of  war.  They  repre- 
sent some  of  the  reasons  why  men  like  to 
fight,  for  it  is  difficult  not  to  believe  that 
if  no  one  wanted  to  fight  war  would  be  pos- 
sible at  all.  They  too  represent  the  dark- 
[78] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

er  side  of  the  picture.  War  as  already  in- 
dicated offers,  on  the  positive  side,  the 
greatest  opportunities  for  the  altruistic 
tendencies;  it  offers  the  most  glorious  oc- 
casion for  service  and  returns  for  such  acts 
the  greatest  possible  premium  in  social  es- 
teem. But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  causes 
of  war  lie  much  deeper,  that  they  involve 
primarily  the  problems  of  the  herd  rather 
than  the  individual,  and  I  think  there  are 
good  biological  analogies  which  make  this 
highly  probable. 

I  have  already  discussed  the  mechanism 
of  integration  and  indicated  how  the  devel- 
opment of  the  group  as  well  as  the  organ- 
ism was  dependent  upon  the  subordination 
of  the  parts  to  the  whole.  This  process  of 
integration  tends  to  solve  more  and  more 
effectively  the  problems  of  adjustment, 
particularly  in  some  aspects,  in  the  direc- 
[791 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

tion  of  ever-increasing  stability.  It  is  the 
process  of  the  structuralization  of  func- 
tion. This  increase  in  stability,  however, 
while  it  has  the  advantage  of  greater  cer- 
tainty of  reaction,  has  the  disadvantage  of 
a  lessened  capacity  for  variation,  and  so  is 
dependent  for  its  efficiency  upon  a  stable 
environment.  As  long  as  nothing  unusual 
is  asked  of  such  a  mechanism  it  works  ad- 
mirably, but  as  soon  as  the  unusual  arises 
it  tends  to  break  down  completely.  Life, 
however,  is  not  stable ;  it  is  fluid,  in  a  con- 
tinuous state  of  flux,  so  while  the  develop- 
ment of  structure  to  meet  certain  demands 
of  adaptation  is  highly  desirable  and  nec- 
essary, it  of  necessity  has  limits,  which 
must  sooner  or  later  be  reached  in  every 
instance.  The  most  typical  example  of 
this  is  the  process  of  growing  old.  The 
child  is  highly  adjustable  and  for  that  rea- 
[80] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

son  not  to  be  depended  upon;  the  adult  is 
more  dependable  but  less  adjustable;  the 
old  man  has  become  stereotyped  in  his  re- 
actions. Nature's  solution  of  this  impasse 
is  death.  Death  insures  the  continual  re- 
moval of  the  no  longer  adjustable,  and  the 
places  of  those  who  die  are  filled  by  new 
material  capable  of  the  new  demands.  But 
it  is  the  means  that  nature  takes  to  secure 
the  renewal  of  material  still  capable  of 
adjustment  that  is  of  significance.  From 
each  adult,  some  time  during  the  course  of 
his  life,  nature  provides  that  a  small  bit 
shall  be  detached  which,  in  the  higher  ani- 
mals, in  union  with  a  similar  detached  bit 
of  another  individual,  will  develop  into  a 
child  and  ultimately  be  ready  to  replace 
the  adult  when  he  becomes  senile  and  dies. 
Life  is  thus  maintained  by  a  continuous 
stream  of  germ  plasm  and  is  not  periodi- 
[81] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

cally  interrupted  in  its  course,  as  it  seems 
to  be,  by  death. 

The  characteristics  of  this  detached  bit 
of  germ  plasm  are  interesting.  It  does 
not  manifest  any  of  that  complicated  struc- 
ture which  we  meet  with  in  the  other  parts 
of  the  body.  The  several  parts  of  the  body 
are  highly  differentiated  each  for  a  spe- 
cific function.  Gland  cells  are  developed 
to  secrete,  muscle  cells  to  contract,  bone 
cells  to  withstand  mechanical  stresses,  etc. 
Manifestly  development  along  any  one  of 
these  lines  would  not  produce  an  individ- 
ual possessing,  in  its  several  parts,  all  of 
these  qualities.  Development  has  to  go 
back  of  the  point  of  origin  of  these  several 
variations  in  order  to  include  them  all.  In 
other  words,  regeneration  has  to  start  with 
relatively  undifferentiated  material.  This 
is  excellently  illustrated  by  many  of  the 
[82] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

lower,  particularly  the  unicellular  animals, 
in  which  reproduction  is  not  yet  sexual, 
but  by  the  simple  method  of  division.  A 
cell  comes  to  rest,  divides  into  two,  and 
each  half  then  leads  an  independent  exis- 
tence. Before  such  a  division  and  while 
the  cell  is  quiescent,  in  the  resting  stage, 
as  it  is  called,  the  differentiations  of  struc- 
ture which  it  had  acquired  in  its  lifetime 
disappear,  it  becomes  undifferentiated, 
relatively  simple  in  structure.  This  pro- 
cess has  been  called  dedifferentiation. 
When  all  the  differentiations  which  had 
been  acquired  have  been  eliminated,  then 
division — rejuvenescence — takes  place. 

From  this  point  of  view  we  may  see  in 
war  the  preliminary  process  of  rejuvenes- 
cence. International  adjustments  and 
compromises  are  made  until  they  can  be 
made  no  longer;  a  condition  is  brought 
[83] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

about  which  in  Europe  has  been  termed 
the  balance  of  power,  until  the  situation 
becomes  so  complicated  that  each  new  ad- 
justment has  such  wide  ramifications  that 
it  threatens  the  whole  structure.  Finally, 
as  a  result  of  the  accumulated  structure  of 
diplomatic  relations  and  precedents  a  situ- 
ation arises  to  which  adjustment,  with  the 
machinery  which  has  been  developed,  is 
impossible  and  the  whole  house  of  cards 
collapses.  The  collapse  is  a  process  of 
dedifferentiation  during  which  the  old 
structures  are  destroyed,  precedents  are 
disavowed,  new  situations  occur  with  be- 
wildering rapidity  for  dealing  with  which 
there  is  no  recognized  machinery  available. 
Society  reverts  from  a  state  in  which  a 
high  grade  of  individual  initiative  and  de- 
velopment was  possible  to  a  relatively 
communistic  and  paternalistic  state,  the 
[84] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

slate  is  wiped  clear  and  a  start  can  be  made 
anew  along  lines  of  progress  mapped  out 
by  the  new  conditions — rejuvenescence  is 
possible. 

War,  from  this  point  of  view,  is  a  pre- 
condition for  development  along  new  lines 
of  necessity,  and  the  dediff erentiation  is 
the  first  stage  of  a  constructive  process. 
Old  institutions  have  to  be  torn  down  be- 
fore the  bricks  with  which  they  were  built 
can  be  made  available  for  new  structures. 
This  accounts  for  the  periodicity  of  war 
which  thus  is  the  outward  and  evident  as- 
pect of  the  progress  of  the  life  force  which 
in  human  societies  as  elsewhere  advances 
in  cycles.  It  is  only  by  such  means  that  an 
impasse  can  be  overcome. 

War  is  an  example  of  ambivalency  on 
the  grandest  scale.  That  is,  it  is  at  once 
potent  for  the  greatest  good  and  the  great- 
[85] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

est  evil :  in  the  very  midst  of  death  it  calls 
for  the  most  intense  living;  in  the  face  of 
the  greatest  renunciation  it  offers  the 
greatest  premium;  for  the  maximum  of 
freedom  it  demands  the  utmost  giving  of 
oneself;  in  order  to  live  at  one's  best  it 
demands  the  giving  of  life  itself.  "No 
man  has  reached  his  ethical  majority  who 
would  not  die  if  the  real  interests  of  the 
community  could  thus  be  furthered.  .  .  . 
What  would  the  world  be  without  the 
values  that  have  been  bought  at  the  price 
of  death?"1  In  this  sense  the  great  cre- 
ative force,  love,  and  the  supreme  nega- 
tion, death,  become  one.  That  the  larger 
life  of  the  race  should  go  forward  to 
greater  things  the  smaller  life  of  the  in- 
dividual must  perish.  In  order  that  man 
shall  be  born  again  he  must  first  die. 
1  G.  Stanley  Hall. 

[86] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

Does  all  this  necessarily  mean  that 
war,  from  time  to  time,  in  the  process  of 
readjustment,  is  essential?  I  think  no 
one  can  doubt  that  it  has  been  necessary  in 
the  past.  Whether  it  will  be  in  the  future 
depends  upon  whether  some  sublimated 
form  of  procedure  can  adequately  be  sub- 
stituted: We  have  succeeded  to  a  large 
extent  in  dealing  with  our  combative  in- 
stincts by  developing  sports  and  the  com- 
petition of  business,  and  we  have  largely 
sublimated  our  hate  instinct  in  dealing 
with  various  forms  of  anti-social  conduct 
as  exhibited  in  the  so-called  "criminal." 
It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  nations  can 
unite  to  a  similar  end  and  perhaps,  by  the 
establishment  of  an  international  court, 
and  by  other  means,  deal  in  a  similar  way 
with  infractions  of  international  law. 

[87] 


CHAPTER  VI 

SOME  TENDENCIES  QUICKENED  BY  WAR 

TO  what  ends  are  these  elemental  forc- 
es tending?  No  man  can  tell.  It 
is  the  essence  of  life  to  produce  the  unex- 
pected. The  psychoanalyst  reduces  the  in- 
stinctive trends  of  man  to  a  very  few,  but 
what  an  endless  variety  results  from  their 
combinations,  their  differences  of  more  or 
less,  their  compromises,  distortions,  and  re- 
pressions! One  is  reminded  of  the  few 
basic  elements  in  the  human  face,  and  yet 
no  two  of  the  countless  millions  are  alike! 
The  pattern  of  the  fine  lines  on  the  finger 
tips  is  different  in  every  individual.  The 
possibilities  are  practically  infinite.  And 
[88] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

yet  these  tendencies  are  strong  and  seem 
to  be  pointing  in  certain  general  directions, 
and  one  may  at  least  endeavor  to  pierce  the 
future  by  means  of  speculation. 

Democracy  has  been  defined  as  a  state 
of  society  in  which  "Every  man  is  free  to 
do  that  which  he  wills,  provided  he  infring- 
es not  the  equal  freedom  of  any  other 
man." *  It  would  seem  that  social  organ- 
ization was  tending  in  the  direction  of  in- 
creased individual  freedom,  retaining  and 
building  up  only  such  institutions  as  min- 
ister to  the  end  of  personal  freedom  by  cre- 
ating a  milieu  in  which  it  can  be  safely 
exercised  and  brought  to  its  fullest  pos- 
sible fruition.  Combination,  association  in 
groups,  is  essential  that  each  person  may 
be  secure  to  work  out  the  best  that  is  in 
him.     The  scholar,  for  example,  the  re- 

1  Herbert  Spencer. 

[89] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

search  scientist  or  the  artist,  could  not  ex- 
ist in  a  primitive  society  all  of  the  energies 
of  which  had  to  be  focused  upon  the  prob- 
lems of  obtaining  food  and  protecting  it- 
self from  enemies.  Peace,  industrialism, 
a  reasonably  stable  structure  built  upon 
principles  of  law  and  order,  specialized 
classes  for  producing  the  necessities,  for 
defense  and  policing,  are  necessary  that  ac- 
tivities represented  by  science  and  art  may 
be  developed.  In  the  world  struggle  now 
in  progress  those  societies  that  are  based 
upon  the  autocratic  authority  of  some  one 
man  or  class  of  men  absolutely  to  control 
the  destinies  of  the  group  and  its  individ- 
ual members  seem  to  be  disintegrating, 
and  the  indications  are  clear  that  forces  are 
at  work  that  are  attempting  to  give  birth 
to  a  more  clearly  democratic  form  of  gov- 
ernment which  will  guarantee  a  greater 
[90] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

measure  of  individual  freedom.  This 
would  appear  to  be  the  big  possibility  that 
will  ultimately  come  to  pass,  perhaps  not 
immediately,  but  as  a  result  of  those  forces 
which  the  war  has  stirred  into  action. 

This  fight  for  individual  freedom  is  not 
new.  It  has  been  going  on  for  ages  and 
is  exemplified  every  day  in  the  conflict  be- 
tween parents  and  children.  The  family 
contains  within  itself  elements  that  make 
for  its  ultimate  disruption,  as  has  been 
especially  emphasized  by  psychoanalytic 
investigations.  The  basis  of  the  conflict 
is  the  effort  of  the  child  to  become  emanci- 
pated from  the  control  and  protection  of 
the  home,  so  that  ultimately  he  may  be 
able  to  go  forth  into  the  world,  free  from 
such  necessities,  capable  of  standing  upon 
his  own  feet,  and  in  turn  found  a  family 
of  his  own.  This  is  the  original  form  in 
[91] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

which  the  conflict  against  constituted  au- 
thority is  cast  and  must  mean,  in  the  end, 
the  overthrow  of  absolutism  and  the  tri- 
umph of  democracy,  an  end  which  will  ul- 
timately come  to  pass  even  if  this  present 
war  should  fail  to  accomplish  it.  Whether 
it  shall  be  accomplished  in  whole  or  in  part 
the  results  can  hardly  fail  to  effect  prog- 
ress in  this  general  direction.  There  are 
many  indications  as  to  the  specific  lines 
along  which  this  advance  will  take  place. 
Perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  advance 
in  this  direction,  aside,  of  course,  from  the 
signs  of  a  growing  spirit  of  democracy  in 
the  European  countries,  is  the  movement 
for  the  emancipation  of  women.  This 
movement  can  obviously  no  longer  be 
stemmed  by  reactionary  and  conservative 
statesmen ;  it  can  be  no  more  than  delayed. 
The  signs  of  the  times  are  clear.  Woman 
[92] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

is  coming  rapidly  to  occupy  a  social  and 
legal  position  that  will  be  in  every  way  on 
a  footing  of  equality  with  the  other  sex. 
The  war  has  hastened  this  movement  as 
nothing  else  could,  because  it  has  demon- 
strated beyond  argument  that  woman  can 
do  all  the  things  that  man  can  do  and  do 
them  quite  as  well.  The  necessities  of  the 
warring  nations  have  given  her  an  oppor- 
tunity to  show  her  ability  in  almost  every 
walk  of  life  and  she  has  stood  the  trial 
successfully. 

Another  movement  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, not  quite  so  obvious  in  its  results, 
has  been  the  taking  over  by  the  govern- 
ment of  certain  public  utilities,  in  partic- 
ular the  railroads  and  the  telegraph  sys- 
tems. This  is  but  a  part  of  that  reaction 
against  absolutism,  that  tends  always  to 
exploit  the  individual,  that  is  directed 
[93] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

against  autocratic,  capitalistic  groups  that 
grow  up  within  a  nation  and  which  in  their 
operation  produce  the  same  sort  of  ham- 
pering of  the  individual  that  monarchies 
do  in  larger  measure. 

As  a  part  of  this  movement  against  the 
autocracy  of  capital  there  is  developing 
an  attitude  towards  large  enterprises, 
which  means  that  the  employer  of  a  large 
number  of  men  has  something  further 
to  look  to  than  his  balance  sheets. 
He  has  a  distinct  social  obligation,  because 
it  is  after  all  the  organized  society  of  which 
he  is  a  member  that  makes  such  enter- 
prises possible,  and  he  must  give  some- 
thing back  to  society,  in  the  form  of  serv- 
ice, for  the  privilege  thus  accorded  to  him. 
This  means  that  he  must  look  after  the 
welfare  of  his  employees,  their  health,  and 
more  particularly  their  working  condi- 
[94] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

tions.  Work  must  be  made  as  safe  and 
wholesome  as  possible.  Employers'  lia- 
bility acts,  workmen's  insurance,  old-age 
pensions,  factory  sanitation,  child  labor 
laws,  all  point  in  that  direction.  We  will 
probably  see  much  more  development 
along  these  lines,  in  particular  a  civil  pen- 
sion act  by  the  government  and  very  prob- 
ably a  much  more  specific  recognition  of 
unions. 

The  possession  of  wealth  itself  is  com- 
ing to  mean  something  more  than  just 
having  a  lot  of  money.  It  is  coming  to 
imply  social  obligations  in  the  way  it  is 
used.  Society  permits  the  existence  of 
conditions  which  make  the  accumulation 
of  wealth  possible.  It  will  soon  under- 
take to  say  something  about  the  way  in 
which  it  can  be  used.  Public  displays  of 
extravagance  and  wanton  waste  are  long 
[95] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

since  taboo,  while  in  the  growing  tax  on 
income  we  see  the  beginning  of  a  move- 
ment of  repression  which  will  ultimately 
result  in  an  increased  sense  of  the  public 
obligations  of  great  wealth.  Money  is  but 
a  symbol  of  power,  of  energy ;  and  energy 
is  of  no  value  when  it  is  idle.  Taxes  are 
one  way  in  which  the  potential  energy 
represented  by  money  can  be  made  kinet- 
ic; the  money  must  be  put  to  work,  and 
when  in  addition  the  work  that  the  money 
is  put  to  is  socially  useful  the  significance 
of  taxes,  both  for  the  public  weal  and  also 
by  bringing  a  measure  of  social  esteem  to 
the  wealthy,  is  evident. 

Another  movement  of  similar  signifi- 
cance is  the  taxing  of  inheritances.  A  so- 
cial organism,  like  the  individual,  becomes 
senile  and  relatively  defunct  in  proportion 
to  the  degree  in  which  its  ways  of  reacting 
[96] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

become  fixed,  static;  that  is,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  degree  in  which  its  activities 
are  controlled  by  its  past  and  are  unable 
to  go  forward  in  a  relatively  fluid,  dynam- 
ic state  in  the  process  of  adaptation  to 
the  ever-changing  conditions  which  prog- 
ress imposes.  The  laws  of  inheritance 
which  permit  persons  to  devise  their  prop- 
erty as  they  wish  have  been  means  whereby 
large  accumulations  of  wealth  have  been 
kept  intact,  and  controlled,  no  longer  even 
by  the  living,  but  from  the  grave.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  no  human  being  is 
wise  enough  to  look  forward  into  the  fu- 
ture, for  a  generation  even,  and  say  what 
will  be  the  best  way  of  using  large  powers, 
and  any  attempt  to  do  so  must,  in  general, 
lead  to  socially  undesirable  results.  In- 
heritance taxes  prevent  the  direction  of 
large  powers  from  being  exercised  by  past 
[97] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

generations ;  they  tend  to  mobilize  the  en- 
ergy to  best  meet  present  needs.  Both  of 
these  economic  tendencies,  the  taxing  of 
incomes  and  inheritances,  have  been  great- 
ly accelerated  by  the  necessities  which  this 
war  has  created. 

These  movements  are  but  examples  of 
a  growing  demand  for  an  advanced,  what 
has  been  called  a  "new  democracy."  The 
old  slogan  "all  men  are  born  equal"  has 
had  to  be  materially  modified  in  the  face 
of  hard,  incontrovertible  facts.  It  was 
a  manifest  absurdity  to  claim  that  the  born 
idiot  was  the  equal  of  any  other  child.  He 
suffers,  as  do  all  with  congenital  defects, 
from  a  handicap  which  can  never  be  over- 
come. Some  handicaps  may  be  com- 
promised with,  as  a  missing  limb,  or 
actually  be  made  an  asset,  as  a  grotesque 
deformity  which  the  possessor  may  use  as 
[98] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

a  means  of  livelihood.  Some  may  even  be 
overcome,  as  in  the  case  of  Demosthenes 
the  stutterer,  who  became  the  greatest 
orator  of  Greece;  but  the  mere  statement 
of  such  differences  implies  inequality.  And 
so  the  assumption  that  all  men  are  born 
equal  was  modified  to  mean  "equal  before 
the  law."  Without  dilating  upon  the  man- 
ifest shortcomings  of  this  formulation,  for 
it  is  obvious  that  financial  resources  do 
exercise  a  modifying  influence  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  law,  it  is  equally  evi- 
dent that  this  formulation  falls  short  of 
our  present  ideals  Those  ideals  can  now  be 
better  expressed  by  the  phrase  "equal  op- 
portunity" for  all.  This  means  that  no  man 
shall  be  deprived  of  a  chance  to  attain  suc- 
cess, and  that,  as  a  result,  the  constitution 
of  a  democracy  shall  be  based  upon  merit 
rather  than  upon  birthright  or  an  acci- 
[99] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

dental  social  position.  The  almost  uni- 
versal tendency  to  take  public  positions 
out  of  the  control  of  political  favoritism 
and  make  them  subject  to  civil  service  re- 
quirements is  the  concrete  expression  of 
this  attitude,  imperfectly  as  this  special 
mechanism  may  have  functioned  in  par- 
ticular instances.  In  all  these  senses  not 
equality,  but  "inequality  is  of  the  essence 
of  healthy  social  life,"  for  manifestly  some 
men  are  better  equipped  by  natural  ad- 
vantages to  do  some  things  better  than 
others.  In  a  society  in  which  merit  gets 
its  full  recognition,  each  person  would 
tend  naturally  to  gravitate,  as  they  do  of 
course  now,  but  in  a  less  hampered  way,  to 
that  position  he  could  fill  best,  and  thus 
his  differences,  the  factors  of  inequality, 
would  be  utilized  to  the  best  advantage. 
Another  factor  at  work  in  this  present 
[100] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

war  situation  which  makes  for  a  democ- 
racy of  equal  opportunity  has  been  a  con- 
script army  with  promotions  based  upon 
service  record.  The  consequent  assem- 
bling of  large  numbers  of  men  in  camps 
without  distinction  of  social  class  has  un- 
doubtedly had  some  tendency  to  break 
down  these  distinctions,  a  tendency  which 
is  undoubtedly  further  advanced  when 
they  come  to  share  the  hardships  of  actual 
service  conditions  at  the  front.  A  part  of 
the  mutual  distrust  of  men  in  different 
walks  of  life  is  based  upon  their  ignorance 
of  each  other.  Living  together,  facing  dan- 
ger together,  tends  to  wipe  out  such  dis- 
trust built  upon  lack  of  acquaintance  and 
respect,  and  helps  to  weld  the  individual 
members  of  the  social  group  into  a  more 
sympathetic  and  understanding  union. 
This  same  argument  applies  as  well  to 
[101] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

men  of  different  races,  nationality,  relig- 
ious creeds,  political  persuasions,  and  in 
fact  to  all  of  the  differences  which  ordi- 
narily tend  to  split  up  society  into  smaller 
groups  mutually  ignorant  of  each  other 
if  not  actually  antagonistic. 

Thus  do  we  see  the  conditions  of  war 
giving  opportunity  for  the  expression  of 
two  diametrically  opposed  tendencies :  the 
tendency  to  create  the  greatest  possible 
opportunities  for  individual  expression — 
individualism,  and  the  tendency  to  sub- 
ordinate individual  energies  to  the  service 
of  the  group — socialism.2    This  opposition 

2  I  have  used  the  word  socialism  here  not  be- 
cause it  is  perhaps  an  ideal  word,  but  because  it  is 
as  good  as  any  other,  inasmuch  as  all  sorts  of  vari- 
ations of  theory  are  included  under  it  and  like 
terms  which  might  have  been  used,  such  as  collec- 
tivism and  communism.  In  the  sense  here  used  it 
means  only  that  necessary  subordination  of  the  in- 
dividual to  the  group. 

[102] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

represents  the  ambivalency  of  attitude 
towards  the  mutually  opposed  and  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  same  fundamental  prob- 
lem. 


[103] 


CHAPTER  VII 

INDIVIDUALISM   VERSUS   SOCIALISM — LOVE 
AND  HATE 

IT  is  inconceivable  that  the  great  forces 
which  have  been  set  in  motion  by  the 
war  should  become  quiescent  the  moment 
peace  is  declared.  They  will  proceed  to 
operate  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  of 
inertia.  A  great  moving  force  of  opinion, 
like  a  great  body,  cannot  come  to  rest  un- 
less opposed  by  equal  forces  operating  in 
the  opposite  direction.  Then  again  this 
is  no  incidental  war  of  conquest  in  which 
a  nation  of  superior  strength  simply  cap- 
tures an  inferior  race  a  long  distance  from 
its  base  and  reduces  it  to  economic  slavery. 
[104] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

It  is  a  world  war  in  which  fundamentally 
different  principles,  autocracy  and  democ- 
racy, are  contending  for  the  mastery. 

As  already  indicated,  the  struggle  for 
personal  expression,  individualism,  be- 
gins in  the  home  in  the  natural  antago- 
nism of  parents  and  children,  and  has  thus 
for  its  purpose  the  emancipation  of  the 
child.  So,  here,  autocracy  represents  the 
relatively  paternalistic  type  of  govern- 
ment in  which  the  monarch,  representing, 
being  symbolic  of,  the  father,  exercises  a 
restraining  and  controlling  direction  of  the 
individual,  symbolic  of  the  child,  from 
which  the  individual  is  always  desiring  to 
free  himself.  A  democracy,  in  which  the 
people  choose  their  own  ruler,  approaches 
that  eugenic  ideal  which  has  sometimes 
been  facetiously  expressed  by  saying  that 
children  should  be  able  to  choose  their  own 
[105] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

parents.  Already  those  who  are  looking 
into  the  future  are  recognizing  the  fact 
that  the  problems  of  the  reconstruction 
period  may  be  as  large  or  larger  than  those 
of  the  war  itself. 

The  contest  will  take  on  the  form  of  a 
conflict  between  the  two  always-present 
tendencies  which  may  be  best  formulated 
as  socialism  and  individualism.  Psycho- 
logical conflicts  take  on  the  character  of 
mutual  antagonism  between  diametrically 
opposed  tendencies,  and  it  may  be  said  of 
these  two  formulations,  as  of  psychological 
conflicts  in  general,  that  both  are  right 
and  both  are  wrong,  for  they  only  repre- 
sent the  two  sides  of  the  same  issue — the 
issue  of  gaining  the  greatest  expression. 
The  group  is  fighting  for  the  greatest  op- 
portunities for  its  expression,  but  in  order 
to  gain  its  goal  it  needs  the  highest  de- 
[106] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

velopment  of  its  component  members — 
the  individuals  that  compose  it.  The  in- 
dividual is  fighting  for  the  greatest  oppor- 
tunities for  his  expression,  but  in  order  to 
gain  his  goal  he  needs  the  highest  develop- 
ment of  the  group  of  which  he  is  a  member 
as  a  milieu  in  which,  and  only  in  which, 
he  can  bring  to  pass  his  personal  am- 
bitions. 

Also,  like  all  conflicts,  a  reaction  which 
goes  to  either  extreme  is  destructive.  A 
complete  reaction  toward  individualism 
with  a  consequent  renouncing  of  all  social 
ends  would  result  in  lawlessness  and  a 
state  of  comparative  anarchy,  which  in  the 
process  of  development  would  bring  into 
power  men  untrained  to  the  exercise  of 
authority  and  unfitted  by  natural  endow- 
ments to  lead — the  virtual  substitution  of 
a  new  autocracy  of  inefficiency.  A  com- 
[107] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

plete  reaction  toward  socialism  with  the 
renouncing  of  all  individual  aims  would 
result  in  the  establishment  of  a  govern- 
ment which  did  not  concern  itself  with  the 
welfare  of  the  individual  units — an  autoc- 
racy of  power  which  would  in  turn  array 
all  individualistic  tendencies  against  it. 
A  compromise  between  the  two  extremes 
is  necessary  to  get  the  maximum  of  benefit 
and  the  minimum  of  harm  from  each. 

In  ordinary  times  men  divide  them- 
selves into  two  camps  variously  named, 
conservatives  and  progressives  for  in- 
stance, which  represent  these  two  tenden- 
cies, and  out  of  the  clash  of  these  opposing 
factions  a  generally  useful  compromise  re- 
sults. In  times  of  revolution  the  reaction 
is  wont  to  go  to  extremes  and  produce  a 
state  of  affairs  from  which  it  takes  a  long 
time  to  settle  down  to  a  workable  middle 
[108] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

ground.  Then  is  the  psychological  mo- 
ment for  great  constructive  leadership  that 
is  wise  enough  to  hold  the  masses  to- 
gether with  some  constructive  policy- 
while  taking  advantage  of  the  fluidity  of 
the  situation  to  bring  to  pass  such  radical 
reforms  as  will  preserve,  as  a  permanent 
gain,  as  many  of  the  possibilities  as  have 
been  inherent  in  the  period  of  readjust- 
ment and  which  represent  real  progress. 
This  is  work  for  those  men  of  genius  which 
such  times,  sooner  or  later,  call  forth.  If, 
however,  the  process  of  dedifferentiation 
goes  beyond  a  certain  point  it  would  seem 
as  if  it  had  to  complete  itself,  so  to  speak, 
before  reconstruction  can  begin. 

The  most  difficult  and  the  most  imme- 
diate problem  that  confronts  a  victorious 
nation  is  its  treatment  of  its  defeated  foe. 
This  is  made  especially  difficult,  because 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

it  must  come  after  a  period  during  which 
every  effort  has  been  made  to  weld  to- 
gether each  party  to  the  conflict  in  a  united 
front  against  the  enemy,  and  the  methods 
that  are  used  for  this  purpose  are  the 
methods  dictated  by  hate.  The  banality 
of  the  appeal  to  popular  sentiment;  the 
reiteration  and  emphasis  laid  upon  unsup- 
ported statements  and  upon  plain,  evident 
wishes,  demonstrates  that  the  moving 
forces  that  unite  the  group  are  emotional 
and  largely  regressive.  The  appeal  to 
patriotism,  of  course,  as  already  implied, 
has  its  distinct  constructive  and  progres- 
sive aspects.  Reason,  at  least  so  far  as  it 
is  called  upon  at  all,  especially  in  the  early 
stages  of  a  conflict,  is  confined  to  finding 
arguments  with  which  to  support  the 
emotional  attitude — the  mechanism  known 
as  rationalization.  This  mechanism  is  well 
[110] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

in  evidence  in  the  effort  usually  made  by 
both  parties  to  the  conflict  to  show  that 
the  war  was  started  by  the  enemy,  whose 
attitude  was  purely  offensive,  while  for 
themselves  it  was  as  purely  defensive.  Sim- 
ilarly, each  side,  by  the  same  mechanism 
of  rationalization,  supports  a  claim  to  the 
inherent  righteousness  of  their  cause  and 
the  unrighteousness  of  the  cause  of  the 
enemy.1     This  is  the  fluid,  emotionally 

1  Perhaps  no  better  material  offers  for  the  study 
of  these  mechanisms  than  the  stories  circulated  in 
times  of  war  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the 
enemy.  Of  course  atrocities  are  committed,  and 
many  of  the  stories  are  true  or  founded  in  truth, 
but  equally  many  of  them  are  made  of  whole  cloth 
and  represent  projected  wishes  of  what  the  author 
of  the  stories  would  like  to  do  and  like  to  believe 
true  in  order  to  justify  his  hate  and  retaliatory 
measures  based  upon  it.  See  in  this  connection 
Jung,  C.  G.,  "Collected  Papers  on  Analytical 
Psychology,"  chap.  IV,  "A  Contribution  to  the 
Psychology  of  Rumor."  Published  by  Moffat, 
Yard  &  Co.,  New  York,  1917. 
[Ill] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

laden  situation  into  which  a  truly  great 
leader  may  project  himself  and,  gathering 
up  all  the  loose  ends  of  reason  and  feeling 
alike,  formulate  the  whole  movement  in 
terms  that  cement,  direct,  and  lead  popu- 
lar thinking.  It  is  the  great  opportunity, 
too,  for  turning  the  enormous  energies  of 
the  herd  into  channels  which  shall  effect 
constructive  ends,  for  utilizing  the  free 
energies  for  the  larger  purposes  by  detach- 
ing them  from  their  several  purely  selfish 
attempts  at  realization  and  directing  them, 
through  the  medium  of  some  symbol  such 
as  "making  the  world  safe  for  democracy," 
into  activities  which  shall  be  of  service  in 
the  largest  sense. 

Hate,  pure  and  simple,  is  always  de- 
structive in  its  tendencies.    It  can  be  used 
constructively  only  indirectly,  by  being 
directed  against  persons,  institutions,  ways 
[112] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

of  thinking  which  it  is  necessary  to  clear 
away  in  order  to  substitute  something  bet- 
ter. A  new  building  cannot  be  con- 
structed out  of  the  bricks  of  an  old  one 
without  first  tearing  down  the  old  struc- 
ture. The  utilization  of  hate  in  this  way 
makes  it  serve  creative  ends.  The  danger 
is,  of  course,  in  failing  to  keep  it  in  leash. 
It  is  just  this  danger  of  hate  over- 
stepping the  necessary  limits  of  its  con- 
structive task  that  makes  the  reconstruc- 
tion period  so  full  of  difficulties.  Each 
war  contains  the  material  for  the  next  war 
in  the  excessive  advantages  which  the  con- 
queror takes  by  imposing  humiliations 
upon  the  conquered,  as,  for  example,  in 
depriving  him  of  territory.  This  latter  is 
the  typical  example  which  stands  as  a  men- 
ace to  the  resumption  of  friendly  relations. 
It  is  felt  as  an  injustice,  and  the  day  is 
[113] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

looked  forward  to  when  the  wrong  can  be 
righted,  the  lost  possessions  regained,  and, 
too,  some  additional  territory  taken  be- 
sides to  redress  the  humiliation  suffered. 
The  formulation  of  peace  terms,  therefore, 
taxes  the  ingenuity  of  the  greatest  minds 
to  effect  an  adjustment  that  will  be  last- 
ing. 

Until  recently,  to  be  sure  with  notable 
exceptions,  there  has  been  no  thought  of 
a  lasting  peace  between  nations.  Inter- 
national relations  were  always  strained 
and  armed  force  was  trusted  as  the  only 
efficient  argument.  Now,  on  the  contrary, 
the  air  is  filled  with  speculations  on  the 
possibility  of  a  more  stable  basis  for  inter- 
national relations  which  will  make  war,  if 
not  impossible,  at  least  less  easily  possible. 
Some  psychological  speculations  regard- 
ing the  principles  involved  may  not  be  out 
[114] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

of  place.  As  previously  indicated,  re- 
actions of  nations  as  well  as  individuals 
may  be  classified  on  the  basis  of  their  rela- 
tive maturity  or  immaturity  from  the  de- 
velopmental point  of  view,  and  the  criteria 
for  such  a  judgment  rest  in  the  extent  to 
which  the  reactions  show  that  instinct  is 
directed  and  controlled  by  reason,  and 
also  in  the  degree  of  the  integration  shown 
by  the  breadth  or  height  of  the  highest 
aims.  The  former  criterion  needs  no  fur- 
ther comment;  the  latter  will  bear  some 
further  explanation.  In  the  primitive 
manifestations  of  life  the  larger  good  is  the 
welfare  of  the  cell  only;  other  cells  re- 
ceive no  consideration.  In  a  somewhat 
more  advanced  stage  of  multicellularity  in 
which  the  organism  is  represented  by  a 
loosely  associated  group  of  cells,  the  larger 
good  compasses  the  group,  and  so  on.  So 
[115] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

with  primitive  man,  he  is  largely  selfish, 
but  the  larger  good  as  he  knows  it  in- 
cludes the  group  of  which  he  is  a  member 
— often  nothing  more  than  a  small  wan- 
dering tribe.  Later  in  the  history  of  de- 
velopment the  tribes  are  larger  and  may 
even  be  united  in  groups  of  tribes  or 
nations,  and  as  there  is  this  progressive 
increase  in  size  and  complexity  with  cor- 
responding integration  the  larger  good 
comes  progressively  to  apply  to  the  larger 
and  more  heterogeneous  association.  So 
nations  come  to  be  held  together  by  the 
common  purposes  of  the  individuals  com- 
posing them,  but  at  the  same  time  to  ex- 
ist in  a  constant  state  of  antagonism,  if 
not  actual  warfare,  with  other  nations. 
This  conflict  comes  to  be  in  part  expressed, 
among  civilized  nations,  in  their  diplomatic 
maneuvers  for  advantage,  and  in  an  estab- 
[116] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

lished  economic  and  industrial  rivalry.  It 
tends  to  be  maintained,  in  no  small  part, 
by  the  lack  of  acquaintance  with  each 
other  maintained  by  differences  of  lan- 
guage, religion,  and  customs  and  by 
natural  geographical  barriers  such  as 
mountain  ranges,  rivers,  and  oceans,  and 
by  distance  in  general,  both  of  which  tend 
only  slowly  to  give  way  to  improved  means 
of  intercommunication.  The  inhabitants 
of  neighboring  countries  may  thus  come  to 
be  looked  upon  not  only  as  aliens,  but  as 
natural  enemies,  only  waiting  the  oppor- 
tunity to  seize  some  advantage  of  conquest 
and  from  whom  they  must  be  prepared  at 
all  times  to  defend  themselves.  Like  the 
wild  animals  of  the  jungle  they  know  no 
friends  except  those  of  their  own  kind. 
The  question  now  is,  whether,  in  view  of 
the  wide  prevalence  of  the  interest  in  a 
[117] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

permanent  peace  there  are  possibilities  of 
developing  an  integration  at  a  higher  level 
than  a  national  level,  namely,  at  an  inter- 
national level. 

On  the  face  of  it,  it  would  seem,  in  fact, 
it  must  be,  that  the  nations  of  the  world 
are  more  favorably  circumstanced  for  an 
attempt  of  this  sort  than  ever  before.  The 
enormous  development  of  international 
trade  relations,  the  correspondingly  great 
improvement  of  transportation  facilities, 
the  increase  in  the  travel  between  coun- 
tries that  lie  wide  apart,  the  substitution 
of  the  teaching  of  the  dead  languages  by 
the  modern  languages  in  our  schools  and 
universities,  the  study  of  the  histories,  de- 
velopment, science,  literature,  and  art  of 
foreign  countries,  have  brought  us  into 
far  closer  contact  with  our  contemporaries 
all  over  the  world  than  ever  before,  and 
[118] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

must  have  had  a  considerable  effect  in 
wiping  out  that  feeling  of  mystery  about 
other  peoples  which  makes  us  feel  them 
as  alien  and  tends  to  keep  alive  a  spirit 
of  distrust,  fear,  and  hate.  While  the 
study  of  such  sciences  as  anthropology, 
ethnology,  comparative  philology,  and 
psychology  have  taught  us  that  in  reality 
all  men  are  kin.  Whether  or  not  the  pres- 
ent time  is  ripe  for  such  a  wider  expansion 
of  human  interests  as  is  implied  in  a 
"league  of  nations"  remains  to  be  seen, 
but  at  least  to  try  to  effect  such  an  ad- 
justment as  is  implied  in  an  effort  to 
bring  the  great  nations  of  the  earth  to  a 
common  understanding  is  not  only  a  move 
in  the  right  direction,  but,  even  if  it  fails 
to  accomplish  all  that  its  most  ardent  ad- 
vocates wish,  it  cannot  fail — because  it  is 
rightly  directed — to  bring  the  goal  nearer, 
[119] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

to  speed  the  day  of  its  actual  accomplish- 
ment. It  may  be  hoped  that  if  all  na- 
tions cannot  get  together  in  a  league  of 
nations,  at  least  some  of  them  can,  and 
that  future  problems  will  be  on  the  higher 
plane  of  integrating  such  groups. 

To  the  end  of  helping  to  bring  to  pass 
higher  international  relations  certain  at- 
titudes of  mind  must  be  modified  as  they 
relate  to  the  international  situation.  To 
put  it  briefly,  the  indulgences  of  hate  must 
be  curbed.  Hate,  it  must  be  understood, 
can  serve  creative  ends  only  when  it  tears 
down  to  make  possible  better  building.  If 
it  exceeds  this  limit  it  becomes  uncondi- 
tionally destructive,  and,  it  is  worth  while 
to  contemplate,  far  more  destructive  to 
those  who  indulge  in  it  than  to  those  upon 
whom  its  force  is  expended.  Hate  makes 
little  men  and  stands  an  everlasting  bar- 
[120] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

rier  to  the  development  of  a  broad,  deep, 
well-rounded  character. 

In  a  war  such  as  the  present  one,  for  ex- 
ample, force  has  to  be  used.  The  enemy 
that  would  destroy  must  be  made  impotent 
for  harm ;  our  own  physical  integrity  must 
be  preserved  if  we  are  to  be  in  a  position 
to  exercise  our  powers  for  the  larger  ends. 
But  force,  so  far  as  possible,  needs  to  be 
limited  to  such  utilitarian  purposes,  it 
needs  to  be  used  with  a  clear  vision  to 
effect  certain  well-defined  purposes,  and 
those  purposes  should  compass  large,  con- 
structive ends  that  will  benefit  us  prima- 
rily perhaps  but  surely  will  minister  to  the 
wider  purpose.  If  this  be  effected  we  will 
in  the  end  benefit  far  more  by  the  results 
that  will  accrue  to  us  indirectly  than  if  we 
had  kept  in  mind  solely  selfish  aims.  The 
desire,  therefore,  to  make  our  enemy  suf- 
[121] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

fer,  just  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  satis- 
faction from  his  sufferings,  must  be  put 
aside  once  and  for  all  as  either  a  worthy 
or  a  valuable  object  of  war. 

I  am  minded  at  this  point  to  refer  again 
to  the  analogy,  based  upon  the  destruction 
wrought,  between  reactions  that  are  rela- 
tively mature  or  immature.  The  analogy 
is  to  the  history  of  the  treatment  of  chil- 
dren. Without  going  into  details  I  may 
say  that  perhaps  no  page  of  history  is 
blacker,  none  testifies  to  more  helpless  suf- 
fering, none  shows  man  so  unreservedly  at 
his  worst.  Children  have  been  treated  as 
chattels,  the  innocent  objects  of  hate  in  all 
its  gruesome  forms;  they  have  been  en- 
slaved, deprived  of  comfort,  made  the  ob- 
jects of  every  cupidity,  maimed  and 
beaten,  subjected  to  every  indignity  and 
abuse,  killed.  Through  it  all  there  must 
[122] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

have  run  a  golden  thread  of  love,  but  it 
was  stretched  almost  to  the  breaking  point 
many  a  time.  Only  lately  have  we 
learned,  in  a  practical  way,  that  love,  not 
hate,  is  the  open  sesame  to  the  child's  char- 
acter. Only  through  love  do  children 
come  to  blossom  forth  into  good  and  use- 
ful personalities  that  hate  served  only  to 
warp  and  deform.  Love  must  be  the  basis 
upon  which  any  lasting  good  can  be  built ; 
hate  only  serves  to  cripple  and  retard. 
The  same  lesson  has  been  learned,  or,  more 
correctly,  is  being  learned,  in  the  treat- 
ment of  infantile  types  of  reaction  as  we 
see  them  in  the  so-called  insane,  criminal, 
and  defective  classes  generally.  Kindness 
has  stricken  off  chains  that  cruelty  and 
punishment  have  ever  served  to  make  the 
heavier.  While  repression  is  a  necessary 
factor  in  education,  it  can  never  alone  pro- 
[123] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

duce  the  best  results,  and  even  then  it  must 
be  imposed  by  love  and  only  with  the  de- 
sire of  creating  the  most  favorable  condi- 
tions of  development  by  making  the  best 
way  at  once  the  easier  and  the  most  desir- 
able way. 

As  I  have  indicated,  reactions  of  hate 
always  testify  to  a  primitiveness  in  the  re- 
pressive process.  Hate  is  the  method  of 
repression  before  an  instinct  can  be  sub- 
limated so  as  not  to  require  it.  The  rela- 
tively inefficient  artisan  may  hate  his  com- 
petitor who  is  more  skillful,  and  perhaps 
entertains  desires  to  exert  physical 
violence  against  him.  His  children,  who 
have  had  larger  opportunities  for  develop- 
ment, may  have  learned  that  the  best  way 
to  overcome  a  competitor  is  to  do  better 
work  than  he  does,  and  if  they  are  capable 
of  it  hate  is  no  longer  an  emotion  of  which 
[124] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

they  feel  the  need.  We  may  fear  and  hate 
a  person  whose  opinions  differ  from  ours 
until  we  learn  to  know  him  and  realize  that 
he  is  made  of  the  same  stuff  as  ourselves, 
and  is  really  striving  for  better  things  as 
we  are — perhaps  for  the  same  ends  by  only 
a  slightly  modified  method.  The  clash- 
ing of  instincts  gives  way  to  the  meeting  of 
minds.  When  men  can  realize  that  they 
all  are  after  the  same  things,  that  growth 
is  in  the  same  general  direction  for  all, 
they  will  come  to  realize  that  they  can  bet- 
ter effect  their  several  purposes  by  pooling 
their  interests  than  by  insisting  too 
strongly  upon  individual  recognition.  De- 
votion to  selfish  ends  makes  enemies,  con- 
secration to  service  invariably  commands 
a  following.  "Everywhere,  we  learn  only 
from  those  whom  we  love."2 

2  Goethe. 

[125] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

If,  therefore,  it  be  true  that  autocracies, 
absolute  monarchies  based  upon  the  fiction 
of  divine  authority,  represent  relatively 
immature  forms  of  government,  we  can 
expect  to  change  the  spirit  of  people  who 
live  under  them  only  by  bringing  them  to 
our  point  of  view.  Ultimately  this  can 
be  done  only  by  bringing  them  to  see  that 
our  way  of  seeing  is  the  better,  and  they 
will  come  to  agree  with  us  only  if  they 
learn  to  respect  us.  Respect  must  be 
mutual  and  based  upon  mutual  under- 
standing, which  amounts  to  saying  that 
hate  cannot  bring  it  about,  but  only  love. 
A  system  of  exploitation  of  a  conquered 
foe,  a  continuing  repression  with  reprisals 
and  all  the  machinery  of  modern  society 
turned  to  the  uses  of  revenge  cannot  bring 
such  a  state  to  pass.  It  is  not  the  way  we 
[126] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

would  treat  an  erring  child,  nor  should  it 
be  the  way  we  should  treat  a  beaten  foe, 
whose  error  has  been  thai  he  was  actuated 
by  standards  of  conduct  we  believe  to  be 
lower — less  matured — than  our  own.  If 
our  cause  is  as  holy  as  we  are  pleased  to 
think  it,  if  the  enemy  is  as  primitive  as  we 
are  pleased  to  claim,  then  we  have  the 
golden  opportunity  to  show  our  superior- 
ity after  we  have  beaten  him.  If  we  do  not 
do  it,  then  he  still  has  the  right  to  think 
that  our  alleged  convictions  were  but  pro- 
nounced with  the  lips,  that  they  did  not 
issue  from  the  heart.  There  must  be  a 
"victory  of  justice"  rather  than  a  "victory 
of  power"  if  those  instinctive  tendencies 
to  hate  are  to  be  stilled  in  the  hearts  of  our 
erstwhile  enemy  and  justice  "must  involve 
no  distinction  between  those  to  whom  we 
[127] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

wish  to  be  just  and  those  to  whom  we  do 
not  wish  to  be  just."3 

I  know  the  difficulties  of  proceeding 
along  the  lines  indicated,  but  the  path  of 
hate  has  been  pursued  since  the  world  be- 
gan, and  wars  have  followed  wars.  No 
harm  can  come  from  trying  some  new  way, 
and  when  that  way  is  the  way  Christianity 
has  always  taught,  those  who  have  a  pro- 
found respect  for  the  wisdom  of  the  folk 
soul  may  well  be  inclined  to  follow.  The 
difficulties  of  making  a  basis  of  peace  sat- 
isfactory to  all  of  the  multitude  of  inter- 
ests involved  are  stupendous,  as  are  the 
obstacles  to  be  overcome  in  establishing  a 
league  of  nations  that  will  function.  Of 
such  matter  I  am  not  competent  to  speak. 
I  can  only  call  attention  to  certain  psy- 
chological factors  involved.    In  any  event, 

3  President  Wilson. 

[128} 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

the  United  States  occupies  a  position  of 
supreme  importance  and  incalculable  pos- 
sibilities in  the  council  of  nations,  and  I 
believe  that  the  amount  of  force  she  will 
be  able  to  bring  to  bear  for  good  will  de- 
pend upon  the  possibility  of  putting  aside 
issues  of  selfishness  and  hate.  It  will  need 
a  clear  vision  and  great  faith  to  see  the 
way  and  follow  it. 

The  very  clear  principle  involved  is  that 
reprisals,  or  other  punitive  measures,  are 
useful  when  addressed  to  constructive 
ends.  Speaking  in  physiological  terms, 
they  are  useful  for  conditioning  behavior 
along  desirable  lines  after  the  manner  of 
the  conditioned  reflex.  When  used  solely 
for  selfish  purposes,  as  a  means  of  self- 
indulgence  in  hate  and  self-exploitation, 
they  can  only  be  expected  to  be  destruc- 
tive in  their  final  results. 
[129] 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SOCIALLY  HANDICAPPED 

NO  man  can  say  just  what  will  be  the 
great  problems  after  the  war.  We 
can  only  see  in  a  general  way  what  must 
grow  out  of  present  conditions,  for  it  is  of 
the  nature  of  life  to  grow  as  it  advances, 
and  questions  will  arise  which  could  not 
have  been  predicted;  but  I  will  follow 
along  one  of  the  problems  in  accordance 
with  the  principles  already  laid  down  to 
show  where  it  may  lead.  I  refer  to  the 
problem  of  the  crippled  soldier. 

To  be  crippled  nowadays  is  to  be  dis- 
graced.   The  loss  of  an  arm  or  a  hand  so 
often  means  drunkenness  the  night  before 
[130] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

the  accident,  or  lack  of  skill,  or  mental 
dullness,  and  anyway  it  makes  the  man  in- 
ferior to  his  fellows  if  he  was  not  before. 
He  cannot  get  a  job  as  easily  if  at  all,  and 
then  only  at  some  unskilled  work  or  as  a 
mark  of  charity.  The  industrial  cripple 
is  a  marked  man,  literally,  and  tries  to  hide 
his  defect.  An  employers'  liability  act 
which  fixes  the  loss  of  an  eye  at  a  given 
sum  and  makes  total  blindness  a  much 
larger  burden  for  the  employer  to  bear, 
makes  that  same  employer  chary  of  hiring 
men  already  blind  of  one  eye  for  fear  the 
loss  of  the  other  will  subject  him  to  com- 
pensation at  the  rate  for  total  blindness. 

The  war,  temporarily  at  least,  makes  a 
mutilation  a  badge  of  honor.  The  man 
who  has  lost  an  arm  in  the  defense  of  his 
country  is  a  hero  and  is  proud  of  his  loss. 
In  his  pride  it  compensates  him  for  his 
[131] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

loss,  and  perhaps  may  be  a  means  of  bridg- 
ing the  gap  to  the  industrial  cripple.  With 
so  many  obviously  crippled  men  to  provide 
for  there  hasvcome  as  a  stimulus  to  manu- 
facturers that  fine  fire  of  enthusiasm  to 
help  the  boys  who  have  sacrificed  so  much 
by  inventing  means  whereby  they  may 
operate  the  ordinary  machines  of  indus- 
trial life  efficiently.  With  the  problem  of 
labor  which  will  arise  after  the  war,  when 
foreign  countries  will  need  their  own  for 
the  rebuilding  of  their  home  countries,  the 
cripple  may  find  that  the  way  has  been 
provided  for  his  social  rehabilitation.  Such 
a  state  of  affairs  may  well  lead  to  a  re- 
valuation of  the  cripple,  a  realization  of  his 
usefulness  and  an  effort  to  make  his  possi- 
bilities available  which  will  result,  not  only 
in  a  modified  attitude  towards  him,  with 
the  necessary  changes  in  law  and  custom, 
[132] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

but  may  easily  affect  society's  attitude  to 
all  of  its  less  efficient  members  all  along 
the  line. 

For  every  man,  no  matter  how  limited 
in  mind  or  body,  there  is  something  that 
he  can  do  that  it  is  worth  while  that  he 
should  do.  Few  can  be  100  per  cent,  effi- 
cient, but  few  need  to  be  wholly  lacking  in 
usefulness.  The  limited-service  class  of 
the  Army  represents  an  acknowledgment 
of  this  principle,  which  should  really  make 
for  a  still  broader  viewpoint  and  govern 
our  relations  with  all,  including  those 
classes  now  grouped  under  such  mislead- 
ing terms  as  criminal,  defective,  insane.1 

Parents  do  not  abandon  their  children 
because  they  are  not  as  smart  as  their 
neighbor's  children.  Society  should  do  as 
much  and  in  the  same  spirit.    Not  only  is 

1  See  "Principles  of  Mental  Hygiene." 
[133] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

such  an  attitude  useful  to  society,  but  the 
cripple,  the  defective,  is  entitled  to  be  con- 
sidered in  this  way.  Socialism  is  trying, 
by  methods  of  taxation  among  other 
means,  to  abolish  that  state  of  helpless 
poverty  of  so  many  that  effectually  de- 
stroys all  ambition,  all  hope.  Poverty  of 
mind  and  body  is  deserving  of  as  much 
consideration  if  the  "equality"  of  democ- 
racy means  equal  opportunity.  Every- 
one is  entitled  to  a  chance  to  use  that  which 
he  has;  it  should  be  the  object  of  social 
organization  to  see  that  he  gets  it.  The 
type  of  young  man  who  has  been  injured 
by  wounds  represents  the  flower  of  our 
manhood,  and  it  would  not  only  be  unjust 
but  it  would  be  a  ruinous  principle 
from  every  point  of  view  if  he  were  rele- 
gated, even  in  his  own  feelings,  to  a  state 
of  uselessness. 

[134] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

Just"  as  in  the  smaller  groups  within  the 
nations,  it  is  but  justice  to  treat  the  less 
efficient,  less  mature  individuals  after  this 
manner,  so  in  a  group  of  nations  the  same 
principle  should  hold.  A  league  of 
nations  may  include  some  one  that  is  not 
culturally  in  as  advanced  a  state  of  de- 
velopment as  the  others.  Such  a  nation 
should  be  given  a  chance  to  develop,  and 
repressive  measures,  like  the  punishment 
of  children,  should  never  be  resorted  to 
just  to  indulge  hate,  but  only  to  make  the 
way  of  development  the  easier  way. 

Such  statements  as  these,  I  know,  espe- 
cially when  I  speak  in  terms  of  inter- 
national affairs,  sound  visionary,  but  I 
am  using  such  illustrations  to  point  a 
principle  that  I  believe  is  true.     Actual 

conditions  may  make  the  application  of 
[185] 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  PSYCHIATRIST 

the  principle  impossible,  but  they  cannot 
destroy  the  value  of  keeping  it  in  mind. 

If  this  war  makes  at  all  for  construc- 
tive ends,  those  ends  will  be  the  granting 
of  a  larger  measure  of  opportunity  to  all 
the  handicapped  peoples  of  the  earth — the 
unfortunate  among  us,  crippled  in  mind 
or  body,  or  by  industrial  and  economic 
repressions  or  by  racial,  religious,  or 
political  prejudices,  and  a  like  opportunity 
extended  as  between  nations.  Civilization, 
which  has  been  so  taxed  by  the  release  of 
the  primitive  instincts  in  an  orgy  of  de- 
struction, has — by  the  very  clearing  away 
of  standards  which  had  survived  their 
period  of  usefulness  and  became  static  and 
therefore  barriers  to  further  progress — 
an  unparalleled  opportunity  to  rise  to 
greater  heights  on  the  path  to  higher  in- 
tegrations, greater  possibilities  of  co^ 
[136] 


ON  THE  WAR  AND  AFTER 

ordinated  action  for  the  common  good  of 
all. 

In  the  life  of  individuals  it  often  hap- 
pens that  a  great  misfortune  is  the 
turning  point  in  their  careers  and,  bravely 
met,  may  turn  out  to  have  been  a  great 
beneficence.  Unfortunately  misfortune 
does  not  always  result  in  this  way.  Wars 
in  the  past  have  often  produced  only  suf- 
fering, but  such  an  end  may  not  be  the 
only  possible  one.  Has  the  time  come 
when  the  greatest  of  all  national  calamities 
can  be  made  the  greatest  of  all  national  op- 
portunities? Is  there  a  developed,  con- 
structive statesmanship  equal  to  turning 
the  tide  towards  the  great  constructive 
possibilities?  The  Allied  nations  are  in 
a  position  to  answer  these  questions.  They 
stand  on  the  threshold  of  the  greatest  of 
all  opportunities. 

[137] 


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SOUTHERN  REG«^UBRARYa  ^  ^ 
from  which  It  was  borrowed. 

OCT  0  61997 


MAY  2 1 1997 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY 'FACILITY 


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A 'A OOO  044  600   5 


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